All that was between us
by Ylvalie
Summary: This story takes place after the seventh book and the setting is Hogwarts in the fall after the war. Harry, Ron and Hermione and the others are back to finish their final year of school. However, Hermione hadn't counted on forming a friendship with the person she grew up hating – Draco Malfoy. Dramione, Jealousy, Friendship, Adventure - COMPLETE
1. The beginning

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters of the book. They are the property of J.K Rowling, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only / Also, I'm not native in english so please let me know of any errors and please review!_

Hermione paced down the hall to get to her Aritmancy class, carrying her books close to her chest. There were dark shadows underneath her eyes and her shoulders slouched. Last night hadn't been pleasant, she'd woken up in cold sweats, heart racing and breathing fast. Plagued from the nightmares she'd experienced since coming back to Hogwarts, she absentmindedly stroked her arm where Bellatrix had carved in the letters. _Mudblood_. She wasn't alone in suffering from the aftermath of the war. Pain was written on the faces she met in the halls of the castle. No one had been spared in the war. Everyone had lost someone. The faces of _Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye_ and _Dumbledore_ flashed before her eyes and she sighed deeply.

"Why the long face, Granger?" Hermione heard a familiar voice sneer in front of her. Her head snapped up and she glared at Malfoy, standing in front of her.

"I thought you and the weasel would be joined at the hip by now. You're not telling me that you finally decided to dump that pathetic excuse for a man?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow in mock surprise.

She gave him a deadpan stare.

"Last I checked, _Malfoy_. My relationship is none of your concern", she said in a clipped tone, brushing past him.

Draco clicked his tongue, watching her continue her stride down the hall. She'd looked so sad when he'd approached her and as much as he hated to admit it, the sight had pained him. He had difficulty wrapping his head around his newfound obsession with the Muggle born witch. He thought it had started that fatal day at the Manor when his satanic aunt had tortured her. He closed his eyes remembering Hermione's screams and felt a catch in his throat. Anger flared in him, but the target of his anger wasn't Bellatrix. It was him, Draco. While Hermione was tortured, he'd just stood there. However, when he'd watched the scene from the shadows, something had broken inside him and he'd cried out in anguish. But his cries had been drowned by Hermione's screams and the howls from Weasley. If his aunt hadn't stopped the second after, he was certain that he would have snapped and killed the psychotic bitch.

Draco opened his eyes and stared down the hall, but Hermione was no longer there. No doubt, she'd hurried off to next lesson. Always too eager to learn. Skiving off Potions he spent the hour before lunch practising in the Room of Requirement. His practices were ferocious. They had to be, because next time anyone tried to hurt _her_ he would be there to stop them. And there would be a next time, he was certain of it. The war might be over but disgruntled death eaters had regrouped in the aftermath just waiting for their opportunity to strike. He knew this, because _Lucius_ was one of them.

The silence in the Great hall was telling. There must have been at least a hundred students having lunch in there which normally would've meant there be a bustling energy, laughter, elevated conversations and…

 _But things aren't normal_ , Hermione reminded herself. There would be a while before Hogwarts felt like home again. The laughter that usually lingered in the Hall had died down during the war. She looked down at her untouched plate. Shepard's pie. It used to be her favourite, but now she couldn't bring herself to eat it. As she put down her fork, she felt her skin prickle from someone watching her. _Again_. She'd experienced this feeling so often these past months that she was accustomed to it, figuring it was a consequence of the war.

"You need to eat Hermione," Ron scolded her, slumping down on the chair opposite hers. Harry taking the seat next to his. Hermione gave them a bleak smile, relived by their company, but Ron continued to frown at her.

"You know I worry about you, I barely ever see you eat or sleep and every time I see you, you look like you're about to break," he said.

Harry nodded in agreement, taking a bite of Shepard's pie from the plate that had appeared before him. Hermione reached out her hand and put it on top of Ron's, watching his face relax.

"I know you do and I'll try to shape up I promise", she said sincerely, silently hoping she would. She hadn't been happy meeting her reflection in the mirror that morning; her normally fresh and dewy skin close to translucent and the bones prominent underneath her skin.

"Good," Ron said, tucking away a tress of her hair.

Draco watched them darkly from the shadowy corner where he stood. The roar of jealous anger in his chest overcoming him he felt his muscles go rigid. His eyes were lingering on her hand resting on Weasley's and he was aching to pull him away from her, knowing he had no right to feel this way. Weasley had, after all, been Hermione's friend. He'd protected and cared for her while he, Draco had been busy bullying and degrading her and worst of all, done nothing to stop her being tortured by his twisted aunt.

The anguish in his chest grew stronger and he forced himself to look away from the couple. If there was a silver lining to his hell, it was that Ron and Hermione had at least stopped snogging each other in public. The first week after they'd all return to Hogwarts had been excruciating with him accidently walking in on them embracing each other all over the castle. He bit back the bile in his throat when images of their entangled bodies flashed before his eyes.

Resuming to study them, Draco saw Hermione laughing at something Harry had said, and longed to hear her laugh and being the one to induce it.

 _Fat chance there_ , he thought bitterly. His feelings towards _her_ might have changed significantly these past months, but he was sure her feelings towards him were the same as ever. He remembered her calling him evil and vile. And she'd hit him straight in the face in their third year. _How could she ever like, or even tolerate him?_

Although, he thought broodingly. The same could've been said for him. It was less than a year ago that he'd considered muggleborns mudbloods and filth - not worthy of walking alongside _real_ wizards and witches. He still had difficulties wrapping his head around his then-ignorance and hatred.

Draco had become disillusioned during his brief time as Death Eater, working closely to The Dark Lord and the others had showed him that what his father refused to see: that it was all lies. Voldemort had been a demented, cruel shadow of a human careless to the lives of his followers. His arrogance and incapability to love had caused his downfall. Dumbledore had been right all along

Hermione knew that her and Ron's decision to end their relationship had been the right one. They weren't compatible – she knew this. But those blissful weeks of snogging had temporarily distracted them from the tragic reality in which they lived. And she missed that. She sat in a chair in the common room with her feet slung over the armrest and a book resting in her lap. Crookshanks was sleeping on the floor beside her. Lacking the concentration needed to finish next week's homework, she glanced out the window. The night was clear and starry and she reasoned that a stroll around the grounds would help sort her thoughts. Getting up from her seat she tossed the book to the side. It was late, but security at Hogwarts had been lax ever since Dumbledore's demise, so sneaking out of the castle wouldn't be a problem.

She shrugged into a light jacket and left Gryffindor Tower, smiling at the fat lady snoring in her portrait as she went. Pushing open the heavy gates to the grounds she breathed in the crisp autumn air. It wasn't logical, but she felt more relaxed out here – alone in the dark – than inside the warm castle. She pulled her jacket closer around her, starting making her way down to the lake.

Draco couldn't believe his luck. Leaving the Room of Requirement after a late-night practice he'd seen Hermione running down the stairs. It looked like she was heading out. He couldn't believe it; Head Girl Hermione was about to break curfew. He guessed time was about midnight and she couldn't possibly be allowed out in the grounds at this time, shuddering at the thought of her alone in the dark outside. _Unguarded. Vulnerable. Helpless_.

Hurrying to close the door to the room he scurried down the stairs after her. He watched her push open the gates before mirroring her movements. Now she was standing with her back against him, looking over the grounds. She was so close, if he reached out he could touch her. _Feel her_.

But she couldn't know he was there. Soundlessly, he stepped into the shadows next to the gate. She looked more relaxed out here. Perhaps her relationship with Weasley suffocated her, he thought hopefully. But then he felt a twinge of irritation at Weasley for not being there. Didn't he have any qualms about letting his girlfriend outside in the dark where dangers lurked in every shadow?

 _Very responsible, fuck-wit._

Hermione was heading down to the lake now and Draco shadowed her, watching her settle herself on the grass by the water he saw her face in the moonlight. He drew in breath. It was astounding to him that he's ever considered her mundane, his eyes moving greedily over her features, the pointed chin, full lips, high cheekbones, her unkempt hair and bright almond-shaped eyes.

He felt he could watch her forever, when he saw something making his heart freeze. There was something moving towards them from the other side of the Whomping Willow. He couldn't make out its shape but the way in which it was slouching towards Hermione felt foreboding. Without thinking he ran from his hiding place, landing himself on top of her with his hand pressed over her mouth. He saw her eyes widen in fear, he wanted to explain but couldn't risk it. So instead he dragged them across the mud to the place where he'd hidden, pointing to the shapes now standing at the exact spot where Hermione had sat. And he could tell she saw it too. They realized who they were when they heard the croaky meow from Mrs. Norris. _Filch and his wretched cat._

Panting, they watched the man and his pet return to the castle. Draco with his arms still wrapped around Hermione, inhaling the scent of her chestnut hair. It smelled like sugar roasted almonds. _Damnit to hell_. Soon, he thought, he would no longer be able to restrain himself around her.

She stirred in his arms as they watched the gate close behind Filch, breaking free within a second after. She rounded on him.

" _Malfoy_ , what the hell are you playing at? Did you follow me here?" she demanded, her hair wild around her narrow shoulders.

He sighed and closed his eyes for brief second. Lying to save one's neck came naturally for a Slytherin.

"Of course I didn't", he snapped "Why would I? Get over yourself. I was out for a walk and wasn't exactly pleased to find you here".

Hermione glared at him. The excitement had brought colour to her cheeks and he thought she looked quite intimidating. He'd planned to end their conversation here but his curiosity urged him on.

"What were you doing out here alone, anyway?" he prompted, in what he hoped was an accusing tone.

Hermione considered his question with narrow eyes, chewing on her lip, forcing him to stifle a groan as his eyes fixed on her bottom lip. He felt a twinge below his navel and it took all his restraint not to grab her and taste those lips.

"Why do you care?" she asked in a voice drenched in suspicion.

"I don't," Draco said coolly "Just making conversation, Granger. Now if you'd excuse me – I'm done here".

"Fine," she said crossing her arms over her chest.

He didn't like leaving her out here alone. But if she was suspicious now, it was nothing to what she would be if he offered to walk her to the castle. They were, after all, supposed to loathe each other.

"And your welcome by the way," he said causally over his shoulder as he made to walk back to the castle.

Hermione was fuming. She stomped up to the castle thinking about Malfoy- that annoying ferret, leave it to him to destroy her midnight walk. Although technically it would have been destroyed by Filch if Malfoy hadn't _helped_ her hide. Only, she wasn't sure it constituted as help when it involved someone crashing into you and pressing their cold hand over your mouth. He'd hurt her lip. She could still taste the blood. And on top of everything else he'd insulted her.

 _Nothing new there_ , she thought. He really was vile. She'd thought he would've been sentenced to Azkaban after the war, what with his known involvement with the Death Eaters and all. But no, he'd been pardoned by the Wizengamot due to his young age and the spy work he'd supposedly donefor the Order before Voldemort's downfall. In the least, she'd expected him to be shunned here at Hogwarts. But no, when he strolled through the gates last September people had greeted him like nothing happened. She figured as long as you were filthy rich, well-connected and devilishly handsome you'd get away with just about anything. _Devilishly handsome?_ She stopped in her tracks right before the portrait of the fat lady. Well, objectively speaking he was handsome. She recalled the image of him as she'd rounded on him by the lake. His stately figure, his marble skin, grey eyes and blond combed hair…no his hair had been dishevelled and there'd been mud on his face. But yes, objectively he was handsome. Only that didn't necessarily mean she thought so, did it?


	2. The conversation

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._ What on earth had possessed him to follow her to the grounds? To save her from Filch? And why, oh why had he smelled her hair? Draco was tossing and turning in his bed. The sheets were a tangled mess at the end of his bed. He was covered in sweat and he couldn't stop thinking about how she'd felt in his arms; her small frame, her heaving chest and her hair against his face. _For fuck's sake_. He was losing his mind. This was his punishment for joining the Death Eaters - a cursed obsession with a muggleborn! He laughed with silent mania, before his thoughts returned to her. He wondered if she'd made it back to the castle alright. _What if she felt distraught after the night's events? What if she'd gone to Weasley for comfort?_

An anguished moan escaped his lips and he could hear Pusey stir in the bunk next to his. He rubbed his temples when images of a scantily dressed Hermione next to smug looking Weasley appeared in his head. _No_ , Hermione wouldn't need comfort. She was tough and had endured way worse than a run-in with Filch. He knew that first-hand. His thoughts flashed back to Bellatrix and he clenched his fists. A troubled night without much sleep followed.

"You look like shit", Blaise told Draco at breakfast the next morning. Draco grunted in response and sat down, staring at his scrambled eggs. The sleepless night had left him nauseous.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong? According to Pusey you were screaming bloody murder in your sleep," Blaise looked at him, frowning.

"What's with the fucking interrogation, Zabini? Can't a man eat his eggs in peace?", he asked irritably. Blaise looked affronted but didn't retort.

Draco sighed.

"Sorry," he grunted "had a bad night, that's all. Nightmares."

He was just about to grab the fork when someone tapped his shoulder. He looked up, catching Zabini's surprised expression before turning around. Draco felt his eyes widen in disbelief when he saw it was Granger _,_ and looking into her uncertain amber eyes he had to stop himself from losing himself in them. He quickly fixed his composure.

"Granger," he mumbled "What do you want?"

She looked hesitant, glancing over at the rest of the Slytherin table. And she was biting her lip again. _For fuck's sake_ , he thought when he felt the thug beneath his navel yet again.

"Get on with it," he growled.

She jumped at his harsh voice and he immediately felt guilty, thinking she was hardly to blame for the sick thoughts forming in his head as he watched her bite down on her swollen, bottom lip.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for helping me out yesterday. I probably would have landed myself in detention if you hadn" she started, but he cut her off.

"It's alright, Granger. I wouldn't want to give Filch the satisfaction anyway" he said, holding her gaze.

She gave him a bleak smile and he felt his insides soar. She'd actually smiled at him. Then she gave him a quick nod and Draco watched her walk back to the Gryffindor table, catching Weasley look at him with disgust and threw him a sarcastic smile before turning around to face Zabini.

"Whoa, what was that about? What did you help her with?" Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow. Draco felt his fellow Slytherins' eyes on him.

"Nevermind," Draco said dismissively and he glared around at the others, watching them return hastily to their breakfast.

His appetite had returned the moment he'd laid eyes on her and he had to force himself not to smile while he ate his eggs. Zabini was rubbing his unshaven chin now, looking over at the Gryffindor table.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this about Hermione Granger but she's become quite tasty. Did you see the way that blouse stretched over her.." Blaise started.

Draco dropped his fork loudly and stared murderously at his friend, his heart pounding in his chest and adrenaline surging through his veins. He wanted to hit Zabini for daring to look at her with that greedy expression.

"What?", Blaise said confused, clearly oblivious to the emotions his comment had provoked.

 _Calm down_ , Draco told himself. Him and Granger was supposed to hate each other. He had no right defending her honour.

"Nothing," he said with the most levelled voice he could gather. Then his insides flared anew when Zabinis eyes darted back to, he guessed, Hermione.

"I mean, I always figured her for a prude you know. But that shirt really doesn't leave much to the imagination does it? Perhaps after that weasel.."

"Enough!" Draco snarled, his fist clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. One more word and Zabini would feel his wrath. "I'm done discussing Granger."

Blaise looked taken a back but then it looked like something clicked inside his head. _No, no, Merlin no,_ Draco thought dreading what would come next.

"Right, you're not really over that whole blood status thing are you?" Blaise said.

Draco felt sick. _That's what Blaise thought?_ That he felt superior to her, that her being a muggle born was sickening to him. Blaise couldn't have more wrong. Truth was Draco felt very much inferior to her.

"What the hell were you talking to him for?" asked Ron irritably once Hermione returned to the Gryffindor table. Harry who'd had his nose buried in the Daily Prophet looked up at the pair.

"Who are you talking about?" he asked sounding confused, his glasses balancing askew on the bridge of his nose. Hermione straightened them and answered without looking at Ron.

"Malfoy," she said.

" _Malfoy_ , why the hell were you talking to him for?" Harry asked rather sharply putting down the Prophet to search her eyes.

"Well, because of him I escaped being caught in the grounds after midnight," she said simply. She closed her eyes briefly, readying herself for their reactions. And sure enough…

"You were out of the castle at midnight, are you insane!?" Ron and Harry hissed in unison.

Ever since the war, her two best friends had become unceasingly protective of her. This irritated her. She was at the very least as capable as they were. _More_ capable actually, if she was perfectly honest. Her eyes snapped open.

"Shut up! I'm tired of you treating me as though I'm made of glass. I don't need your permission to take a midnight stroll," she said under her breath feeling her temper rising.

"A midnight stroll?" Ron said incredulously, but Hermione ignored him. She didn't have to justify herself to him.

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, gesturing for her to sit down. And she did. They stared at each other across the table for a moment and Hermione could feel Ron growing impatient by the silence.

"Of course we don't expect you to ask for our permission." Harry started, but he was interrupted by an agitated Ron.

"Yes, we bloody hell do, if you're going to do something as stupid as to go outside alone in the night," he spoke glaring at her.

"Harku's talking! You two sneak out from the castle all the time!" she hissed a little too loud, casting a nervous glance at the teacher's table.

"That's different, you're Muggle born. You're what they're after!" Ron whispered angrily. Harry nodded.

"So what? You're a blood traitor! And that guy you're sitting next to is bleeding Harry Potter in case you've failed to notice!" her voice grew louder.

There was an uncomfortable silence. There was something unspoken charging the air between them and Hermione watched them exchange a nervous glance.

"Hermione you need to understand that Ron and I still have the image of your lifeless body," Harry started and swallowed hard "laying in a pool of blood, fresh in our memories" Ron flinched as Harry spoke.

She relaxed a little and felt the anger disperse.

"I know, but we were all hurt in the war and we need to move on…" she said softly.

"Not like you," Ron said through gritted teeth and she could see the rage behind his eyes as they fixed on her arm. She knew they were just as tormented by the horrors of the war as she was and perhaps it was asking too much for them to get over what had happened at the Malfoy Manor.

"Fine, I will tell you next time" she said "but I won't ask for your bloody permission".

Ron opened his mouth to argue but Harry put a hand on his shoulder to silence him.

"Good", Harry said "now that's settled, what happened with _Malfoy_?" Harry asked.

"Well, I was at the lake and out of nowhere Malfoy crashed into me" she said ignoring Ron's growl and continued "then he dragged me to the side right before Filch showed up. He gave me a bloody lip but he spared me a detention - so I'm not complaining" Hermione finished.

"He did what?" demanded Ron, shooting daggers at, she guessed, Malfoy.

"Oh, Ron. It was an accident," she said rolling her eyes at him. However, it didn't stop him reaching over the table, stroking his thumb over her swollen, bottom lip.

The image of that fuck-wit Weasley touching her lips plagued him for the rest of that day. The idiot had done it with such ease. _But of course he had_ , Draco thought, that Weasel was her boyfriend – he was allowed to touch her, hold her and… he felt his mind moving into dangerous territories and cut the thought short. There was no point to him going into jealous hysteria over Granger's relationship with Ginger. _Finally,_ he thought when he reached the Room of Requirement longing for the numbing feeling the practice session provided him. He wanted to exhaust himself enough to stop thinking about her.

It wasn't until after midnight that he felt wasted and staggered from the room, when a muffled sound made him freeze. He listened, but the castle appeared silent and still.

Closing the door carefully, he walked silently through the corridor towards the stairs. That's when he saw her. But she didn't look like she was heading out this time. She sat on the stairs further down, dressed in a tank top and sleeping shorts. He swallowed. If he just walked backwards the same way he'd come, he could get to the dungeons from the other side of the North tower. However, his thoughts stopped abruptly when he heard the faintest of sobs leave her lips, realizing in anguish that she was crying. His body tensed and he stood there for a while just listening to her quiet sobs until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Granger?" he said softly, watching her spin around.

"Malfoy?" she gasped, hastily rubbing the tears from her eyes and cheeks "what are you doing here?"

"I was practising", he started, but then: "It's not important. Are you alright?" he asked, grimacing at the concern in his voice.

Hermione stood up, blinking at him in bewilderment. He noticed that her tank top was really tight and quickly denied himself to look anywhere except her face.

"Since when do you care?" she asked, but there was no anger in her voice. Just a tone of surprise.

"I don't know, but I do. Care, I mean," he said, regretting the words at once. They were supposed to hate each other, he reminded himself, finding it difficult to care about that now. His heart was pounding faster than ever as he stared at her through the darkness, desperately wanting to know why she was crying.

"I'm fine, just had a nightmare and needed a walk to clear my head," she said, still looking puzzled.

"What was it about?" he asked, dreading the answer. But he needed to know if he'd been in it.

"I think you already know," she said warily.

Draco felt his chest fall. She was still suffering from what had happened that day. He was the stuff of her nightmares, he thought feeling self-hatred simper through every cell in his body.

"Do you get a kick out of seeing me relive it? Is that why you ask me about it?" she asked with sudden anger and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What? NO! You can't think that. You mustn't think that. That was the worst day of my life!" he pleaded desperately. He felt as though she'd hit him, feeling suddenly faint as he watched her back away from him looking scared. _Damn_ , the last thing he wanted was for her to fear him more than she already did. But he needed her to understand.

"Think back, Hermione, did I look like I was enjoying myself?" he pleaded with her.

She had reacted when he'd mentioned her name and eyed him suspiciously.

"Except for the pain I don't remember much," she said, adding "you may not have enjoyed it, but you didn't do anything to stop it,".

There it was. The harsh truth. He sat down on the stairs, bowing his hands into his hands. And that's how she left him.

Hermione had stayed awake for hours after she'd left Malfoy, contemplating the sincerity of his confession. He'd said it had been the worst day of his life and she fell asleep bordering on believing him. Next morning, she was late for breakfast and Ron and Harry was already talking animatedly at their table when she entered the Great Hall. Her eyes dashed to Malfoy and she faltered. There was no trace of his usual composure. His eyes were red and the blond hair, usually so carefully combed back, was completely dishevelled. He looked destroyed. Their eyes locked across the room and she gave him a bleak smile, hoping it would make him feel better, not knowing why she cared.

She sat down next to Ron and Harry but didn't feel like joining in their conversation about the Chudley Canons, so instead she looked over to the teacher's table. Professor McGonagall talking to Professor Sinistra. Next to them sat Flitwick conversing with Spout. And on the edge, with her nose buried in a large periwinkle teacup sat Trelawney.

Hermione yawned and looked down at the fruit bowl that had appeared magically before her and picked out a juicy looking strawberry.

Draco felt elevated. She'd definitely smiled at him. He wondered what it meant, could it mean that she didn't hate him, _that he was forgiven?_ It was probably too much to hope for but he did feel a lot better. That was until he looked over at the Gryffindor table and felt his jaw drop. Hermione was slowly biting into a strawberry, drops of its juice falling to her chest. _For fucks sake_ , this girl was going to be the death of him. One moment she left him drowning in anguish and the next she caused him sexual frustration.


	3. The decision

Hermione felt the next few weeks fly by. They'd been given so much homework she had difficulties balancing schoolwork, her commitments as Head Girl and her S.P.E.W engagements. There had been some exiting developments in that last department though. After corresponding with the Department of Magical Creatures, a representative from the Ministry had agreed to meet with her in Hogsmeade that following week to discuss elf rights. True to her form, she had buried herself in research on the mistreatment of house elves and had held an impromptu meeting with the Hogwarts house elves. They'd been most reluctant to help her in her pursuits to gain an inside view of the issue however. She frowned thinking about how they'd ushered her out of the kitchen at her mentioning the word "freedom". Really! She was only trying to help them.

Weighed down by the books she was carrying, she used her free arm to wipe the sweat from her brow. Instead of experiencing her usual sense of accomplishment after a busy day, she felt frazzled and in need of clearing her head. Perhaps a brisk walk after dinner would help, she thought. It wasn't breaking the curfew if she went straight after dinner, so Ron and Harry could hardly object.

Reaching the portrait of the fat lady she said "Turmoil" and watched the portrait swing open. _Turmoil_ , she thought, was just the word to describe her current state.

She didn't stay to chat with Padma and Alicia who were deep in conversation by the fire, but headed straight to her dorm. And dumping the pile of books on a near-by chair, she threw herself on the bed. It felt heavenly to stretch out her sore muscles and resting the on the cool cover she stared up at the gold-painted ceiling.

Her thoughts went to Malfoy. _Again_. She'd been thinking about him so frequently since the night they'd met on the stairs that she'd become quite disconcerted by it. They'd barely looked at each other since that night, let alone talked. And now she found herself wishing to speak with him. But that was absurd! She thought she ought to hate him for what he'd done, perhaps even take pleasure in his suffering. Frowning at the ceiling, she recalled the image of his pleading expression when he'd said:

 _"_ _Think back, Hermione, did I look like I was enjoying myself?"_

She'd told him she didn't remember. But that was a lie. She may have been under a lot of strain at the time but she remembered everything that had happened that day. She'd read some books on human psychology and knew that memories experienced during trauma etched themselves in your brain like no other.

A sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes. Blurry images of the Manor's great resurfacing in her head. The crazed look on Bellatrix' face when she'd screamed questions and accusations at Hermione on the floor. She'd had her eyes focused on Bellatrix' wand most of the time. However, in the periphery of her vision she'd made out the Malfoys by the vast fireplace. Lucius standing stoic but white-faced with Narcissa in a firm grip at his side.

Draco had looked worse than he had in the morning after their midnight run-in. His lips had been pressed thin and he'd looked enraged, knuckles white from gripping his wand tightly. She'd thought he'd been angry with her, disgusted by her blood status and wanting her out of their mansion. However, after Malfoys confession she'd reconsidered. Had it in fact been Bellatrix' torturing her that had enraged him?

She glanced at her watch and decided to freshen up. She got up from the bed and grabbed her towel from the hook on the door. Being Head Girl did have its privileges, she thought, savouring the feeling of being alone in the Prefects bathroom. She stepped into one of the shower stalls, turning on the water and sighing as water poured over her.

Draco was content he'd managed to keep his distance from Granger in the past weeks, not that he hadn't been tempted to seek her out. There had been several instances when he'd started towards her, finally settling on observing her from a far. From what he'd gathered she was becoming more like her old self – busy with studying, stressing about exams and working on that useless elf-rescue mission of hers, SPIT or whatever it was called. This pleased him as he took it as a sign she was moving on from the horrors of the war and looking forward.

The past weeks had also had a positive effect on him – after allowing himself to fall apart the day after they'd met at the stairs, he'd pulled himself together and brought his focus back to school and quidditch. In fact, quidditch practises had gone so well lately that he'd received praise from Urquhart.

He hadn't felt the same need for individual practice in the Room of Requirement, but he'd still done them. He had to keep it up because _if_ , in the future, Granger would be part of his life he had to be capable of protecting her, forcing himself not to think about the capacity in which he wanted her in his life, knowing it could never happen.

Pulling himself back to the present, he absentmindedly listened to the conversation between Flint and Zabini while they walked to the Great Hall. They were discussing their future career pursuits and Draco felt a pang of annoyance at himself for not having a clue what he wanted to do after Hogwarts. He thought everyone seemed so sure of what careers they wanted to pursue. Meanwhile all he could think about was getting out of the Manor and away from Lucius. He wasn't sure when he'd stopped referring to Lucius as _father_. He was however, certain he wanted him out of his life. He didn't feel the same way about his mother though. She had, after all, had her qualms about working for Voldemort. But she was weak in allowing Lucius to lure her on his gruesome quest for pureblood superiority. But hell, so had he, Draco thought.

Entering the Great Hall, he immediately spotted Granger at the Ravenclaw table talking to Looney Lovegood. She was wearing her usual white shirt with the Gryffindor emblem and a plaited skirt, but he thought she looked more composed than usual. Her hair was combed neatly in a ponytail and the clothes lacked crinkles. His eyes lingered on her laughing at something Luna said.

"Oi, Malfoy! Are you coming or what?" Blaise said loudly and Draco's head snapped in the direction of his friend.

"Yeah," Malfoy replied quickly and smoothened his expression, cursing himself for being so careless.

They were served a pumpkin soup which even Malfoy had to admit tasted delicious. Two bowls and a mountain of fresh bread later, he felt quite satisfied. During dinner he'd carefully avoided looking in Granger's direction, but he now turned his body sideways to look at her.

She was standing next to a sitting Weasley, hand resting on his shoulder while talking to Potter. It seemed she was finished with dinner and about to leave. Together with Potter and the Weasel no doubt, Draco thought. However, she surprised him by leaving the table and walking out from the Great Hall alone.

Draco rose from his seat without thinking, but quickly found himself when catching the questioning looks of his fellow Slytherins.

"Headache," he explained hastily before hurrying after Hermione.

He could hear the sound of her footsteps further down the hallway and while taking a moment to catch his breath he considered going back. He thought she was probably heading back to Gryffindor common room and knew he couldn't follow her there. However, he felt there was no turning back and went after her down the stairs out in the chilly grounds. As cool air hit his face he realized he'd been wrong in his assumption. She hadn't gone the common room; she'd gone for another walk. He waited by the side of the gates, his eyes moving with her and allowing some space between them he watched her smile and wave to Hagrid who was about to enter the Forbidden Forest. The oaf waved back to her before being swallowed by the dark shadows of the forest.

Making his way down to the lake after Hermione, Draco worried Hagrid might see him. He considered how he would look from an outside perspective. Chances were he'd look like some creepy stalker following Granger when she so clearly wanted to be alone.

A feeling of disgust boiled up in him. He couldn't bear the thought of doing something potentially harmful to her and in an effort to put an end to hit, he cleared his throat loudly, watching her spin around with a look of surprise. Pleased, he noticed that she looked neither angry nor scared.

"Malfoy" she said flatly "you know this time I won't believe you just happen to be out for a walk"

"I wasn't. I needed to talk to you," he said with a weak smile, watching her cross her arms over her chest.

"Alright," she said expectantly.

"I was wondering if you'd given our last conversation any thought," he asked, surprised the words came so easily. Of course, he'd rehersed this conversation in his head numerous times already.

"I have actually and," she started, but he didn't let her finish.

"Do you believe me?" he asked urgently.

There was silence as Hermione considered him. His eyes fixed on a point above her head, holding his breath and steeling himself for her answer.

"I don't know," she sighed "I've gone over it in my head and all I remember is you being angry"

He cringed. How could he make her understand what the anger had been about. Of course, there was a way to show her. But it meant risking her finding out too much. He drew in breath.

"I can show you. I can let you inside my head," he said hoarsely. Certain this was a bad idea, but desperate for her to believe him he didn't see another option.

"You can't be serious Draco. You'd allow me to perform Legilimency on you?" she asked, looking shocked.

He felt his insides jolt when she'd called him by his first name and suppressed the urge to ask her to repeat it.

"Yes, I would. This is important to me," he said forcefully.

"Why?" she asked astounded.

"Because I've changed. I'm not the same person I was and I'd hate for you to think otherwise," he said roughly, panicking thinking he'd said to much.

"Fine, we can meet outside the room of requirement at midnight tomorrow and do it then," she said, letting her arms fall to her sides.

Draco thought she looked uncertain and was about to say something reassuring when the sight of her chewing her lip made him falter. A tingling sensation spread in his body and he failed to tear his eyes from her mouth. It started to rain and raindrops were quickly gathering at her cupids bow.

 _For fuck's sake, Granger._

Draco stepped towards her, feeling his heartbeat quicken as her expression changed, he could swear she felt it to – the electricity charging the air between them. He touched her cheek and felt the familiar tug below his navel. Her face felt warm in his hand and watching colour flood to it, he realized he'd made her blush. Willing his hand to drop from her face he cleared his throat and met her questioning eyes.

"I should get back. I see you tomorrow at midnight, goodnight Granger", he mumbled not waiting for her to respond before leaving.

He didn't look back; afraid he'd say or do something he'd later regret. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed ahead and watched the distance to the castle growing shorter which each stride. Focused on the ancient looking building, he didn't notice the tall figure standing in the shadows.


	4. The indecision

Ron was breathing fast as adrenalin ran through him. His eyes were wild, burning into Malfoys back, his chest bursting with hatred and animal rage. He had to bite his tongue hard to prevent himself shouting at his enemy's back plate as it disappeared in the drumming rain. The taste of blood in his mouth cooled his temper. _Hermione_ , he thought with a start. Was she alright? If that vile piece of shit had said anything to upset her, Ron would make him pay dearly for it. His eyes searched for her at the spot where Malfoy had left her. She was still there, standing transfixed. Every cell in Ron's body wanted to run to her and hold her as he had after Bellatrix had tortured her. He longed back to the days when it had been his job to protect her and where it had been his business who she talked to. His chest felt hollow as he realized this wasn't his place anymore. He was her _friend_ now which meant he had no say in who she chose to talk to. But surely, Malfoy was an exception to that rule? She hadn't sought him out. Ron had watched that disgusting Voldemort wannabe follow her to the lake. But so had he, Ron – her supposed friend. No, he couldn't run to her, because if she found out he'd followed her – all hell would break loose. Ron swallowed hard and watched her small figure, willing her to go back to the castle before catching a cold.

Hermione was bewildered, unsure what had just happened. Cursing her own stupidity, she wondered what had possessed her to agree to perform legilimency on Malfoy the next day at midnight. Curiosity? Vengeance? Or had it been the sincerity in his eyes and the hopeful flutter in her chest as he'd stepped towards her. She pushed that last thought away. There was no circumstance in which she'd regard Malfoy a man she'd consider…

Ron was relieved when he saw her moving towards the castle finally. She was soaking wet, her white shirt clinging to her body revealing her flat stomach and the perfect shape of her breast. Ron groaned silently both from fear that Malfoy had seen what he just had and from what the sight had done to his lower regions. Why did his ex-girlfriend have to be so fucking appealing? He bit his tongue again, this time stopping himself grabbing her as she brushed past him. It was a painful few seconds before he could follow her. Reaching the castle, he decided to check on her first thing after telling Harry what had happened. He found his best friend in the common room, scribbling frantically on the parchment in front of him. No doubt, he'd forgotten about the essay on dark magic repellent charms they had to write, Ron thought.

"Where've you been?" Harry frowned, looking up from his essay, "You just missed Hermione, you should have seen her, she was in quite a state."

"I know" Ron cut him off "I just saw her down at the lake with Malfoy".

"What?" growled Harry, dropping his quill and rising from his seat, "What did he do to her?"

Ron sighed, knowing exactly how he felt. Hermione and Ginny's safety had become their top priority after the war. No doubt, they were capable witches, but it didn't change the fact that there were men, physically stronger than they out there - lusting to hurt them in unthinkable ways.

"He didn't touch her," he sighed, watching Harry's expression relax "but they were discussing something and she looked scared"

"You didn't hear what they were saying?" Harry demanded, rubbing his temples as he sat back down.

"No, but that creep followed her there Harry. He wanted to get her alone," Ron said, feeling his temper rise again.

"Kreacher" Harry called with a dark expression and the small house elf emerged from the nothingness, looking up at them in a bored expression

"You called, sir" the elf drawled.

"Kreacher," Harry spoke in a business-like voice "something's come up and I need you to stop tailing Ginny and follow Hermione Granger instead. The instructions are the same as before. Got it?"

"Kreacher will stop following the Weasley girl and follow the Mudb..Miss Granger instead," the elf muttered before disapparating.

"You had my sister followed?" Ron snapped angrily

"Yes, and all things considered, can you blame me?" Harry asked, returning to his essay.

Ron considered him for a moment, knowing the answer was no. He couldn't blame Harry for looking out for his sister.

"I hate that it has come to this. But no, of course I don't," Ron started, adding "thank you".

Harry gave him a nod before continuing to scribble on the parchment in front of him. Ron's thoughts went back to Hermione. He felt anxious, realizing he would be unable to sleep not knowing that she was safe in bed.

When they'd been together Hermione had figured out a way to get passed the spell that kept boys from entering the girl's dormitory. This allowed Ron to pass the restriction in the middle of the stairs leading up to her room. Standing outside her door he worked to convince himself that he wasn't a creep for checking on his sleeping ex-girlfriend. After all, this was for her safety, he thought unconvinced, pushing open the door and making out the shape of Hermione the bed. She was sleeping soundly and after checking that the room's other inhabitants were asleep, he sat down on the edge of her bed. Watching her face, he felt instantly calmer and he stroked her hair away from her face. Without thinking, he put his hand against her chest to feel her heartbeat. He had a habit of doing this. A habit that had formed shorty after Hermione had been tortured. During her recovery at the Shell cottage her heartbeat had been so weak, just barely there, threatening to stop all together. It had driven him half mad and ever since he'd felt compelled to check her heartbeat to make sure. This habit hadn't ceased after they'd broken up and Hermione constantly had to remind him he couldn't go putting his hand on her chest anymore. Closing his eyes, he listened to the steady rhythm, feeling the warmth of her body against his palm.

"Ron, what the hell are you doing here?" Hermione hissed quietly, watching Ron's eyes flung open in alarm.

If she hadn't known about her ex-boyfriend's compulsion to regularly check that her heart was beating, she would have thought he was feeling her up. Uncomfortably aware that she was bra-less, she shoved his hand off her.

"Sorry, I just wanted to check that you were alright. Harry said you were in a state before and I just felt I had to see you. I'm sorry," he hastened, looking ashamed and Hermione felt it difficult to stay angry with him.

"Did he now? Perhaps Harry should mind his own business and stop treating me like a child," she said narrowing her eyes.

"Never mind that. Are you alright?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Disregarding I was just woken by some guy having his hands all over my chest, I'm fine," she said coolly, watching Ron's face fall.

"So, I'm _some guy_ now, am I?" he asked hoarsely.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Hermione said, patting his arm consolingly, "It's just, well, you can't exactly come to my bed and touch me anymore," she continued.

Ron shifted uncomfortably on her bed and even in the dark she could see his ears go red.

"I know; I don't know what I was thinking. I should go," he said sheepishly.

"No, stay," she said, silently cursing herself.

Ron looked bewildered, sitting quite still.

"I have fewer nightmares when you're here" she said.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked with hesitation.

"Yes, I mean it will be as friends, there won't be any you know," she said embarrassed, watching him grin. Within a second, her ex-boyfriend had crawled under her covers, and pressed up against her. Until now, she hadn't realized how much she'd missed the feeling of a warm body next to hers and she fell asleep with Ron's arms wrapped protectively around her.

Draco hardly slept that night, thinking about Granger and the fact he would let her in his head later. The ambivalence he felt about his decision was overpowering. One moment he was happy that she would finally see that he didn't hate her and that he'd wished to protect her at the Manor. But the next moment he was tearing his hair imagining her disgust if she found out how he felt about her. Breakfast would be a tense affair, he predicted, pulling himself from bed and staring at his reflection in the mirror sighing at his messy hair. He ran his fingers through it in an effort to straighten it before getting dressed. The rest of his roommates had already left for the Great Hall and he went to join them.

Entering the Hall, he met Granger's eyes. She sat next to the Weasel and his yappy sister. He thought she looked resolute and wondered what that meant, before making his way to the Slytherin table.

"Where have you been?" Flint asked with his mouth full and Draco granted him a look of disdain.

"Needed a lie-in," he muttered, helping himself to some toast.

He ate quickly, eager to leave before he did something stupid, like talk to her. But after leaving the hall on his way back to the dungeons he found his path blocked by Potter and Weasley.

"We want a word with you _Malfoy_ ," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Oh yeah?" Draco sneered, attempting to brush past him. But again he found his path blocked. Ron had stepped in front of him, his wand raised.

"Get out of my way, weasel!" Draco snarled, gripping his own wand in the pocket of his robe.

"We can do this the easy way. Or we could do this the hard way," Ron said darkly.

"Fine, let's get this over with. What do you want, Potter?" he said, glaring back at the dark haired man.

"We know you followed Hermione to the lake yesterday and we want to know why," Harry said. Draco hadn't expected this and wondered how they'd found out. _Had she told them?_

"None of your business," he answered them with a smooth expression.

"The hell it isn't!" Ron growled "Anything involving Hermione is our business"

Draco felt his anger rise when hearing the red-haired fuck-wit talk about Granger in a way which made it clear they considered him, Draco a threat to her safety. But they didn't know her safety had been his top priority for months and that he, not them had kept track of her ensuring she wasn't harmed.

"I needed to talk to her," he answered, doing his best to keep his composure.

"About?" Harry demanded.

"None of your business," he answered again, watching Ron clutch his fists and taking a step towards him. "Why don't you ask your girlfriend what we talked about if you're so curious?" Draco asked Ron pointedly.

"They broke up," Harry said "besides we're not asking her, we're asking you"

Draco looked from Harry to Ron, who looked angry, and it took all his resolve not to smile. Granger was single, he couldn't believe it.

"Really," he said in his best impression of Professor Binns dreary voice. "Well, if you must know. I apologized to her" he drawled on.

Harry and Ron looked perplexed.

"You apologized?" Ron asked dumbfounded, lowering his wand.

"Yes, moron. Am I free to go now?" Draco asked mockingly, watching Harry pull Ron to the side before brushing past them.

Draco could have skipped back to the dungeons, his insides soaring at the prospect of meeting a _single_ Hermione that evening.


	5. The truth

Hermione had felt the day go by too quickly, it was nearing midnight and Ron and Harry had already gone to bed. She was sitting on the common room floor, dressed in a tank top and sleeping shorts, staring at the clock in sheer panic. He might not show up, she thought in attempt to calm herself. After all, Malfoy wasn't known for being reliable. Steeling herself for what was to come, she stood up and left the common room, careful not to wake the fat lady when sneaking past her portrait.

When she reached the corridor leading to the north tower, she saw him standing by the door of the Room of Requirement and thought his pale features looked ghostly in the moonlight cast through the windows.

"I didn't think you'd show," Draco said with a crooked smile, making Hermione recall herself thinking him _devilishly handsome_.

"Same here," she said with small smile back at him.

Hermione thought he seemed just as nervous and she was and decided to take initiative.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" she said, raising her wand in front of her.

"Not a big fan of foreplay, are you Granger?" Malfoy said, looking amused when she glared at him.

"Shut up, Malfoy. You ready?" she pushed.

He nodded.

"Legilimance," she spoke softly and felt energy shoot from her wand, allowing the images wash over her. There was a short sequence of her looking furious at Malfoy before punching him straight in the face. The image changed to Voldemort putting his wand to Malfoy's arm, burning his mark into it, Draco's screams making her insides freeze. She watched the image changed again, seeing herself laying spread-eagled in a puddle of blood, her face twisted in agony, with Bellatrix hoovering over her. Malfoy was distraught, desperately wanting to stop his crazed aunt from hurting her. He thought about killing Bellatrix, lifting Hermione from the floor and holding her tightly. She felt astonished and eager to learn more, when…

"Protego!" Draco screamed.

Draco was transported to Hermione's thoughts. He felt her confusion at what she'd just witnessed. He saw the image of her on the floor, a reflection from his own mind, making him flinch. But then the image changed to Weasley sitting on her bed with his hand on her chest and Draco had to suppress a groan watching a grinning Weasley get into bed with her. Feeling sick, Draco pulled himself from her thoughts.

They stared at each other. Draco thought she looked a bit faint, swaying where she stood just feet from him. He felt fairly confident that she hadn't seen anything he didn't mean her to see, knowing he was an excellent occlumence. He was however, grinding his teeth at what he'd just seen in her head. If he was correct in thinking she hadn't been prepared to share her thoughts with him, the memories he'd seen were recent ones.

"I thought you and Weasley broke up?" he said, unable to keep a note of accusation from his voice.

"We did," she said, looking at him like her thoughts were elsewhere.

"When?" he questioned.

"Months ago," she answered simply, clearly not paying attention to their conversation. Draco was sure he wouldn't have gotten answers out of her this easily had the circumstances been different.

"So that memory of you two in your room was from months ago?" he asked incredulous.

"No, that was from last night. But hang on! We're supposed to be discussing your memories. You weren't even supposed to see inside my head," Hermione snapped, crossing her arms before her chest.

 _Last night._ Draco felt jealousy stir in his chest, biting back the bile in his throat at the image of that red-hair moron crawling into bed with her _._

"So now you're just fucking, is that it?" he asked harshly, feeling nauseous at the thought of _him_ on top of her.

"Draco, this is ridiculous! We were supposed to…"

"Answer the questioned!" he snarled, watching her jump.

"No, we're just friends," she said indignantly, looking slightly scared.

"Really?" he said, not believing a word. Then with a dark look at Granger he said "legilimance" under his breath and in an instant he was back in her head. Back in bed with Weasley, watching _his_ arms wrap around her. But that was it. She'd been telling the truth; they'd only shared a bed.

"What do you think you're playing at Draco!", she hissed angrily, when he pulled from her head,

The relief that had washed over him seeing the full memory was short-lived. He had no defence for his actions and she had every reason to be livid with him. And what explanation did he have for his sudden interest in her sex-life?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," he apologized.

"No, you bloody hell shouldn't have! I was under the impression that you wanted us to do this for the sake of your conscious. Not for you to make matters worse by probing inside my head!" she said furiously.

Draco flinched, wondering if what she said was true, had this experiment just made everything worse?

"But didn't you see me there, at the Manor?" he asked weakly, looking at her face where anger had brought colour to her cheeks and her hazel eyes were wide.

"I did," she said "I could hear you think about killing Bellatrix, about saving me and comforting me," she finished cautiously.

Draco swallowed, wondering what she would make of it.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked, trying to keep calm.

"Yes, I do. And if you want my forgiveness, you've got it," she said eyeing him closely.

For the second time that day, he had to restrain himself from smiling. However, there was one more thing he wanted to ask her.

"Thanks. Do you think we could ever be friends?" he asked, feeling embarrassed.

She looked at him in disbelief, her mouth opening slightly. His eyes fixed, once again, on her bottom lip.

"You want to be my friend?" she asked incredulous, before chewing her lip.

 _No, I don't want to be your friend_ , he thought, imagining touching every part of her body and tasting those lips, biting at the bottom one.

"Yes," he lied smoothly, ignoring the sensation of blood rushing down below his navel.

She looked taken a back, but smiling she said;

"I think I'd like that."

They stared at each other, both of them smiling and Draco felt the happiest he had since he was a kid.

"We should go to bed, its late," she said and he agreed reluctantly. This time he walked her back to Gryffindor tower to make sure she was safe.

When Draco woke next morning, it took him a moment to convince himself that last night had happened, and he smiled remembering her saying that she'd liked to be his friend. He felt resurrected, like there was a chance he would have a new life. A life without the dark arts. A life, perhaps, with _her_. Burying his face in the pillow, he imagined a life after Hogwarts, one where he would wake up next to _her_ in their home. But soon reality came crashing over him. There were so many obstacles in their way. Granger and him had forgot to factor in their existing friends and the difficulties they entailed. He could just imagine Potter and the Weasels reaction to him being Granger's friend. They would be incensed. And Draco wouldn't blame them given they'd witness him call her 'Mudblood' too many times to count. Then there were his friends, if you could call them that. They would surely object to him being friends with little Miss Perfect. However, he found he didn't care much about their reactions, except he didn't want Hermione to be hurt by the situation.

He wanted to talk to her, but it was Saturday meaning they wouldn't see each other in class. Glancing at his watch thrown on the nightstand, he saw he'd slept through breakfast. Figuring his best chance at catching Hermione was going to the library, he got dressed and left the dungeons.

Arriving at the library, Draco spotted her sitting curled up in a leather chair, her nose buried in a book. He watched her for a moment, taking her in, his eyes lingering on her small bare feet. Her shoes were left on the floor. She looked up at him as he approached her.

"Hi you," she said, letting the book rest on her lap.

"Hi yourself," he answered, moving a pile of books from the chair opposite hers before sitting down on it. They stared at each other for a moment, and he couldn't help thinking she looked great in the green dress she was wearing, wondering if she'd chosen to wear his house colour on purpose.

"So, I've been thinking about this whole friend thing," she said quietly, glancing round the empty library. Draco felt his pulse increase, worrying that she'd changed her mind.

"What about it?" he asked, stifling a groan when catching a glimpse down her neckline.

"How do you think our friends will react? I mean we're all supposed to hate each other," she said, leaning towards him and talking in a low voice, despite the fact they were alone.

"I've been thinking about that too and I think, perhaps it'd be best if we kept it quiet for a while," he said and leaning towards her, he felt electricity charge between them again. Her face so close to his that he felt her breath warm his lips.

Draco was painfully aware they were alone in the library and the tug below his navel seemed to urge him to touch her. Searching her uncertain eyes, he talked himself out of kissing her. _You'd scare her and she'd never want to see you again. But what if she kisses me back?_ _Don't,_ he shouted in his head, willing himself to pull back in his seat.

"I think you're right, "she agreed in a levelled voice and he wondered if she'd felt the tension "well now that we'd got that settled, I have some questions."

"You do?" Draco staggered.

"Yes, besides from having the knowledge that you used to be a muggle born hating jerk, I don't know anything about you," she said matter-of-factly.

"Ouch, I guess I deserved that," he said amused, scratching the back of his head.

"Most certainly," she answered in a smile, before asking "what's your favourite book?"

He laughed. Leave it to Granger to interrogate people on their reading.

"I don't know it's my favourite, but I like Wilkins' _Possessed_ '

Hermione knew the book since she'd read it twice in her second year and thought she didn't need a degree in psychology to understand why it held significant meaning to him. The book was about a young man who'd been led astray by dark forces, slowly realizing he hated who he'd become, vowing to make amends.

"Did you used to hate me?" She asked, watching him flinch at her question.

"No," he answered quickly, "I never hated you. I just couldn't allow myself to think of you as a person," he stopped, struggling with the words "I know that sounds terrible, but it was the only way for me to keep sane at the time," he finished.

"Meaning?" she asked bewildered and watched Draco close his eyes briefly.

"If I had allowed myself to think of you as something more than just a muggle born, things would have been very different," Draco explained cryptically.

Still puzzled by his answer she asked another question:

"How do you feel about me now?"

Draco's head snapped up and she thought he looked alarmed.

"What do you mean?" he asked sharply.

"Well, are you alright with my heritage now?" she said, confused at his reaction.

He seemed to relax at first, but then he frowned.

"I will never, ever make a difference between people based on their blood status again", he said sincerely, straightening up.

"Okay," she said, relieved and smiling at him. She wasn't sure why it was so important for her that he'd changed. After all, this was _Malfoy_ and she'd never once before cared what he'd thought of her. _Had that all changed last night?_

"I believe it's my turn to ask the questions now," Draco said and Hermione nodded at him.

"Why did you and Weasley split?"

She hadn't expected this question and had to think a moment before answering.

"I think because both of us realized we we're only together to numb the pain," she said.

Draco felt a burning in his throat. Weasley had _helped_ numb her pain, taking the edge of her suffering. He wanted to ask exactly how the fuck-wit had done that, knowing full well he couldn't bear to hear the answer.

"you don't love him then" he asked hoarsely.

"Yes I do," she said and Draco felt a stab in his stomach before she finished:

"As a friend."

He could feel his whole being relax at her words. They'd spent the next few hours taking turns asking questions and by the time he returned to the dungeons he'd found out she feared leaving Hogwarts and being an adult, just like he did. And that she loved music and her favourite band was a muggle one called The Beatles.


	6. The kiss

Hermione woke on Monday feeling nervous, she had the meeting with Mr Blakely from the Ministry in the afternoon and was anxious to make a good impression. She pulled on a black business-like dress, fastening her robes over it and then she spent nearly thirty minutes taming her wild hair and arranging it in a polished ponytail. Arriving in the great hall, she saw Padma Patil raise her eyebrows, clearly impressed, and after flashing her a smile Hermione sat down opposite Harry and Ron.

"Wow, you look great!" Ron said, his voice muffled by the toast he was chewing.

"Always the tone of surprise," she said amused, digging in to her scrambled eggs.

"Why are you so dressed up?" Harry wondered, glancing at her black dress visible under her robes.

"I have a meeting with a ministry representative after class today," she said surprised at how adult she sounded.

Both of them looked impressed and Ron took a swig of pumpkin juice, before asking:

"Wow, is it about S.P.E.W?"

"Yes," she answered beaming, grateful that he'd finally stopped calling it Spew.

After breakfast they had Transfiguration with McGonagall, where Ron managed to turn Seamus, rather than frog they were practising on -purple. Harry and she had laughed watching him try to hide the damage from McGonagall by pushing an angry Seamus under a table. She'd felt too distracted during that day's lessons to worry about her meeting, but as they left Potions, their last lesson for the day, she felt her nerves tie in a knot. After saying goodbye to Harry and Ron she hastened into the girl's bathroom, where she put on coat and stuffing her robes in her bag, she pulled a lipstick from it and drew her lips. She felt flustered and leaving the bathroom, she almost slammed into Malfoy.

"Whoa, where are you going?" he asked looking surprised.

"Sorry, Draco. I can't talk right now, I'm running late," she excused before striding down the corridor.

 _What the hell?_ Draco thought watching her walk away. He'd only seen her wear make-up once before and that had been at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Yet, he was positive she'd been wearing red lipstick. And what was with the hair and that dress, he thought incredulous. She couldn't be on her way to a date, could she? He followed her in alarm, and being much faster than she, caught up with her running past Hagrid's. He wondered where she was going and it wasn't until they'd left the grounds he realized she was heading towards Hogsmeade. Arriving in the little village, he watched her straighten her dress and take a few breaths before entering The Three Broomsticks. Steeling himself for what he was about to see, he ambled towards the pub, positioning himself in the corner outside the window. He felt freezing and wished he'd been wearing a jacket, watching Hermione through narrow eyes as she walked up to a man, who Draco thought must be in his late twenties, with slick black hair and dressed in a pinstriped suit. The man greeted her with a warm smile and gestured for the barmaid to get them drinks.

Draco felt his body in uproar, jealousy twisting his stomach, he craved to scream. He felt so angry with the man, now sitting chatting with _her_ , that he couldn't breathe. She was a child next to him and for him to date her was unnatural, sick even. Surely he was only looking to take advantage of her innocence. Draco found his breath, panting as he watched the man put his hand on her arm. He had to endure it for an hour, his lips turning steadily more blue and the feeling in his legs disappearing as the minutes ticked by. Then, he saw her get up and shake the man's hand, before leaving the pub.

"Hey," he said loudly, grabbing her arm as she walked past him.

"What the hell! Draco?" she asked bewildered.

"We need to talk," he said through gritted teeth pulling her towards the Hogshead, welcoming the warmth in the shady pub as they stumbled inside.

"One glass of Ogden's" he said to the man behind the bar, before turning to look gravely at Hermione. They sat down at a table by the dirty window.

"Care to explain yourself?" she demanded angrily.

"No, you explain – who was that man and why where you meeting him?" Draco asked, vaguely aware that he sounded like a jealous boyfriend.

"I don't see how that's any of your business" she countered, glaring at him, as the glass of fire whisky arrived at the table. Draco took a swig, experiencing the warm sensation spreading in his body.

"Fine, it isn't. Just tell me," he asked, more calm now.

"He's Nathan Blakely, a representative from the Department of Magical Creatures. He agreed to meet me to discuss the future of S.P.E.W," she said, drawing herself up.

Draco laughed, he couldn't help himself. The relief he felt was immense, the man was just some ministry puppet there to discuss her useless elf rescue mission?

"I don't see the joke," Hermione said coolly, glaring at him when he took another swig of whisky.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing. That's great, really," he started, adding "I just thought, I don't know what I thought, but never mind."

"You thought I was romantically involved with him," she offered shrewdly and Draco felt his jaw drop. She knew he was jealous and had surely figured out what that meant. But then why was she still here? He looked into her hazel eyes, noticing they had gold speckles in them. Then suddenly there was nothing stopping him and he leaned towards her kissing her forcefully. She resisted for a second, before he felt her kissing him back. Draco had never experienced anything like this, the feeling of her lips against his was pure bliss and his fingers wandered to the small of her back as he pulled her closer to him. But then she pulled back.

"What are we doing?" she staggered.

"I like you," he blurted out, before finishing the rest of his whisky in one go.

"I like you too, but," she started.

"No," he groaned "I really like you. You're messing with my head and that's why I followed you here. I just need to know that you're safe. All the time," he finished, watching her warily over the top of his empty glass.

She drew in breath before turning to the man at the bar.

"Can we have two more of these, please?" she asked, pointing to Draco's glass, before turning back to him.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

"That you feel the same way, that there's a possibility, however slight for you and me," he started, but she cut him off.

"You and I being together" she laughed a humourless laugh which made his heart sink "have you thought about how that would look?"

"I don't care how it would look!" he growled, almost knocking over the glasses of fire whisky that had just been placed before them. "I just want you."

She looked stunned as she grasped one of the glasses, drinking the amber liquid.

"I don't know, Draco. I mean I haven't stopped thinking about you since that time at the lake, but we're supposed to hate each other," she said.

Draco felt his insides soar. She'd been thinking about him too.

"So, what does it matter what people think. Isn't it more important what we think?" he asked, tracing his fingers on the edge of his glass. He felt tired of talking, longing to touch her again.

"Yes, but if we do this. If we date," she said, tasting the last word "can we keep it between us. At least for the time being?"

"That's probably wise," he agreed, before leaning over to give her another kiss and this time she succumbed to it rather than resist it.


	7. The impact

Hermione had avoided Malfoy since the Hogsmeade-incident, focusing instead on schoolwork and S.P.E.W. The meeting with Mr. Blakely had gone well and after further correspondence, the Ministry had agreed to give her an internship at the Department of Magical Creatures once she was done with school. It had been almost a week since she'd last had a proper conversation with Draco and she'd made excuses when he'd asked to see her, mumbling something about having a heavy workload. Truth was, she was confused about what had happened between them and needed time to let the situation sink in. When the initial emotions had subsided, she'd snapped back to her usual rational self. All things considered, she knew it wasn't reasonable for them to date, there were too many things working against them and she doubted he'd meant what he'd said about not caring what other people thought.

 _I just want you._

She sighed, irritably looking up from the book she was trying to read, studying the raindrops trickling down the library window. These days doing her homework took twice as long as it had used too, and she was certain Malfoy was the reason for it. She couldn't keep her concentration, distracted by images of his pale face and the memory of them kissing at the Hogshead blurring her vision. She didn't know how strong her feelings for him were, but she couldn't deny being drawn to him. Watching last night's game between Slytherin and Gryffindor, she'd caught herself gawking at Malfoy - dressed in quidditch gear and looking insanely sexy. It didn't help that he'd become quite the flyer, almost catching the snitch several times before Harry finally caught it. Frustrated with her disobedient thoughts she tossed the book aside and began pacing the length of the library, absentmindedly running her fingers over the spines of books collecting dust on the library shelves. Hermione usually found comfort in the library but now not even the sight of hundreds of books helped her shake the feeling that she'd left something unfinished, painfully aware the feeling had nothing to do with next week's homework.

Draco was in the Room of Requirement, working furiously to rid her from his mind, casting jinx after jinx into the wall before him. She was avoiding him, he was sure of it, coming up with excuses whenever he'd plucked the courage to approach her. He'd expected to feel devastated being ignored by her, but instead he felt angry. _Hadn't they agreed to date?_

As far as he was aware, dating didn't constitute of not talking to each other – he believed that was the very opposite of dating. He felt like such an idiot, convinced he'd made a mistake in confessing his feelings for her. Deciding to stop practising, he conjured a towel and wiped the sweat from his face. It was late and he thought he'd better get to bed, although his head was still swimming with angry thoughts about Granger. However, pushing the door open, he found himself eye to eye with her. She stood by the window opposite to the Room of Requirement.

"Hi," she said with a small smile which he didn't return.

"What are you doing here, Granger? I thought you were busy," he said, trying to appear indifferent to her presence.

"I've been avoiding you," she confessed, taking a step towards him.

"Oh, you don't say?" he said in mock surprise, pulling the door shut behind him.

"I haven't been fair to you. I should have told you I needed some time to process things," she apologized. Draco noticed dark shadows under her eyes and that her hair was in more of a mess than usual.

"Great, well, just let me know when you're done processing things" he said with a cold laugh, starting to walk away from her.

"Come on Draco, what do you want me to do?" she said irritably.

He stopped walking and held her gaze, considering what she'd just said.

"I want you to fucking show me," he said and meeting her bewildered expression, he added "show me that you give a damn, Granger".

She just stood there unmoving, and he began walking again.

"Just what I thought," he said disappointed, when suddenly he felt her crash into his strong body with such ferocity the impact caused him to stagger into the wall. She was kissing him like there was no tomorrow, grabbing his hair and wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifted her up. He spun her around, pushing her up against the wall, ripping her shirt and unclasping her bra. Then his lips were on her chest, kissing the crevice between them, and he smiled when she moaned with pleasure.

"Draco," she panted "I don't think. We can. Do this. Here."

Craving nothing more than to take her right then and there, he reluctantly lowered her to the ground, and pushed open the door to The Room of Requirement.

"After you," he said roughly as his eyes moved greedily over her body. She looked sexy as hell in her torn attire and unable to take his eyes off her, he didn't notice the bed that had appeared in the midst of the room until she threw herself onto it. In a heartbeat he was on top of her, pulling his shirt over his head before tearing off her clothes. Blinking, he stared down at her naked body.

 _She's fucking perfect._

He felt her fingers on his belt buckle and in one swift move she'd hiked down his pants, and he groaned as she touched him _there_. Pulling himself closer to her, he pushed inside her, watching her whimper. He was gentle at first, but watching her come undone as he moved inside her while simultaneously touching that sensitive spot between her legs, he became increasingly more ferocious. Biting her bottom lip and slamming into her forcefully, he felt himself starting to shake and with a groan he collapsed on top of her.

"For fuck's sake Granger," he laughed, resting his head on her chest.

"Sorry," she said jokingly, running her fingers through his hair "I guess I got carried away."

"You got carried away?" he said looking up at her "seriously though, did I hurt you?"

"Not too bad," she answered him smiling and he saw that her bottom lip had a gash in it. Next time he'd be more careful, he promised himself, relieved to be rid of his sexual frustration at last.

"We should get back to our dorms, it must be after curfew," Hermione said, making Draco roll over and bury his face in a pillow.

"Do we have to?" he said in a muffled voice.

"Yes, I'm Head Girl and I can't just.."she started.

"Alright, alright, spare me the lecture," he groaned, getting up from the bed before walking her back to Gryffindor tower.

Hermione had to drag herself from bed next morning, exhausted from last night's adventures, she threw on the first items of clothing she could find and left the dormitory without as much as a glance at her hairbrush. Sitting down next to her two best friends in the Great Hall, she longed for a cup of coffee knowing full well there was no such thing as coffee at Hogwarts.

"I can't believe this!" Harry exclaimed, putting down The Daily Prophet with a thud and added in explanation, "More disappearances. And the ministry is doing nothing per usual"

Hermione swallowed hard, sharing in his frustration. There had been an upswing in the number of disappearances of muggleborn wizards and witches in the past few months and despite the Ministry's protests to them being related in any way, she was convinced they were. There were rumours that the scattered anti-muggle groups that had formed after the war had united in one strong entity, calling themselves _Nightshade._ However, Hermione was careful not to put much stock into rumours.

"It's terrible," she said, rubbing her temples.

"Yeah," Ron agreed before digging into his buttered toast.

Harry continued to read the article, muttering under his breath, and Hermione thought she caught the words _useless_ and _do something._

"Hey, Granger, you look tired. Rough night?" Draco sniggered, brushing past their table and Hermione snapped her head in his direction. That smug bastard, she thought throwing him a look of disgust before catching Harry and Ron's bewildered expressions.

" _What_ was that about?" Ron asked incredulous.

"I dunno. It's _Malfoy_ – who knows what's going in that miniscule brain of his," she said in what she hoped was a casual voice, although she could feel her face redden.

"True, he is an idiot," Harry said unconcernedly and Hermione felt a twinge of annoyance as he'd said it, fully aware that she, just the moment before, had accused Draco of having a miniscule brain . But that wasn't true, she thought, sure he could be an insensitive jerk at times, but he wasn't stupid.

"Hermione, what did you do to your lip?" Ron asked suddenly, eyeing her with concern.

"Oh, I accidentally chewed it," she said, sure she was blushing now, recalling Draco biting her lip hard the previous night. And once again, Ron reached over to stroke it with his thumb.

Draco glared at the red haired moron, watching him touch her lips, experiencing Deja-vu. This had been the scene just a few weeks ago, but the tables had turned since then. Granger was _his_ now. That gash on her lip was proof of that. And that fuck-wit had no right touching her, he thought feeling his temper rise. He would have to talk to Granger about implementing some new boundaries between her and Ginger.


	8. The secret

A few weeks later, Hermione sat by the roaring fire in the common room, in the midst of filling out a Ministry form, when she saw snow starting to fall outside the window. She loved snow and hoped that it would stay on the ground until Christmas. Resuming to fill out her form, she frowned when she read box labelled 'address'. It was only recent she and her parents had been allowed to leave the safe house set up for them by the Auror Department. Kingsley had insisted on them staying there until they were sure the danger posed by the Death Eaters had dwindled. After leaving there, her parents and she had moved to a new house and since she no longer had the trace on her, Hermione figured no one at the Ministry knew her address. Until now, she thought putting down the last digits of her postal code.

Finished with the form and eager to go outside, she got up from the chair and left Gryffindor tower to make her way to the owlery. It was freezing up there so she hurried to pick out one of the school owls and attach the letter to the Ministry to its leg. The small grey owl didn't look keen to fly in the snow, and she had to drag it to the mound's edge to make it take off. As she was leaving, she heard someone coming up the stairs before she saw it was Cormac McLaggen, holding a letter in a tight grip.

"Granger, fancy meeting you here," he said when he saw her.

"Hello Cormac," Hermione answered curtly, but as she made to pass him, he grabbed her arm.

"Cut it out," she said in a levelled voice. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of making her scared.

"Not so fast Granger, we're all friends now, so there's nothing wrong with us having a little chat," he said with a cocky grin that grew wider when she started to struggle in his grip.

"What do you want, McLaggen?," she asked, struggling to keep her composure as she felt his fingers bore into her arm.

"Oh, just a moment of your time," he said nonchalantly, eyeing her up and down. She stopped struggling, knowing there was no way she'd get out of his grip. Cormac was about five times bigger than she and she had no arm muscles to brag about.

"I was wondering if you'd managed to find a date yet?" he asked, loosening his grip on her arm.

She looked at him incredulous.

"What are you talking about?

"The winter dance," he said impatiently "who are you going with?"

"I dunno. No one," she said, feeling very confused about why they were having this conversation, on top of which she'd completely forgot about McGonagalls announcement that there'd be a winter dance this year.

"You know I was going to ask Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker you know," he started, drawing himself up "but if you don't have anyone to go with, I'll go with you:"

Hermione felt anger erupt in her chest, did he seriously think she'd go with him after their disastrous date at Slughorns Party in sixth year? And to offer himself up to her as if he was some sort of gift. Then she almost laughed imagining Cho's face if he'd ask her next.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," she said, adding "now let me go."

He looked furious, but released her nonetheless.

"This isn't over," he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yes it is," Hermione said coolly, before leaving. Running down the stairs, she felt her blood boiling and couldn't wait to tell Ron and Harry. They wouldn't believe that the arrogant, disgusting prat had actually thought she'd go out with him after practically having attacked her two years previous.

She found her two best friends out in the grounds, half -watching a snowball fight between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor first-years.

"You're kidding?" Harry said when she'd finished telling them what had just happened.

"That's it. I'm going to kill him," Ron said in a low voice, looking furious, then sounding concerned he asked "Are you okay, I mean he didn't hurt you or anything?"

"No, not really," she said, sitting down on the bench beside them, wind-shield wiping her feet in the snow.

"But can you imagine if he asks Chang? She will turn him to dust," Hermione said smiling, watching the patterns her feet left in the snow in front of her. Then glancing at Ron, who still looked angry, she said: "Come on, Ron. I only told you what happened because I thought you'd think it funny,".

She watched Ron's head snap up and he glared at her.

" _Funny_ is it?" Ron said angrily, ignoring Harry's overstated sigh "that some creep can't keep his hands off you and refusing to take 'no' for answer. You think that's funny, do you?"

"No of course I don't, Ron, but nothing happened. Truly," she said, looking at Harry for support.

"Yeah, come on Ron, lighten up," Harry said, but this only resulted in Ron glaring at him instead.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the scene of first-years throwing snowballs at each other, until Ron calmed down.

"Fine, I'll let it go. But if he approaches you again Hermione, you'll let me know," he said, in what sounded more like an order than a question, and she nodded in agreement. Then she remembered she'd said to meet Draco after dinner and glancing at the clock she realized she had to get back to the castle.

"Guys, I got to go. See you at dinner" she said before heading back to the castle, going straight to the prefect's bathroom. She accioed her towel and fresh set of underwear from her dormitory, hoping no one had noticed her drawers swishing through the air. Then she turned on the water before stepping into the steamy shower.

Thank Merlin, Draco thought when dinner finally came to a close. He was eager to get some time alone with Granger, feeling like he'd hardly seen her lately. The past week, she'd been too preoccupied with schoolwork and her Head Girl responsibilities to make time for him. He, on the other hand would've gladly skived off quidditch practice for an hour of physical activities with Granger. But whatever, tonight he'd have her for himself, he thought watching her hungrily as she got up from her seat, saying her goodbyes to Potter and Weasley and leaving the Hall. He closed his eyes, counting silently in his head: _1…2….3…4_ before he got up and hurried after Granger, catching up with her at the start of the corridor leading to the Room of Requirement.

"Hey," he said panting.

"What happened to being discreet?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, I counted to ten before going after you," he lied smoothly, thinking she looked very cute when annoyed.

"Draco, if we're not careful everyone will find out," she said, biting her lip and looking worried. However, Draco wasn't listening. He was staring at her lips, longing to taste them and failing to understand why they were wasting time just standing there talking.

"Yeah, you're right, whatever. Can we just get on with it?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh, that's real romantic," she said sarcastically, but she was smiling so he figured he wasn't in any real trouble. Then, in a stroke of genius he said he'd heard someone coming before ushering her into the Room of Requirement.

After hours of uninterrupted sex, Draco felt wasted and thirsty. Hermione was resting on his chest and he was stroking her arm when he noticed a big bruise on it. Frowning, he traced the outlines of the purple mark.

"Granger, what is this?" he asked.

"A bruise", she said matter-of-factly, resting her chin on his chest.

"Yeah," he said, looking at her face now "but how did it get there?

There was a silence, and he felt himself grow impatient, before she spoke.

"I had a run-in with McLaggen earlier," she said and in Draco sat up quickly, feeling completely sober now. And Hermione rolled off him sighing.

"What? What did he do?" he demanded, already feeling his body pulsing with anger. She'd previously told him about how McLaggen had behaved towards her on Slughorn's party. And Draco was sure he wouldn't like what was coming.

"Well, we ran into each other at the owlery and he asked me to the winter dance. I turned him down and it got a bit nasty," she started, but meeting his expression, she fell silent.

Draco was quiet too, picturing ways in which he could make MacLaggen suffer. There was no way he was getting away with this.

"So, about the winter dance," she said suddenly, pulling him back to the present "are you bringing anyone?"

He could tell she was working hard to keep her voice casual and he smiled, glad not to be the only one who was jealous.

"Yeah, I was thinking about asking…" he started, watching her face fall before finishing the sentence "Zabini."

"Jerk", she said, punching his arm.

"There is this girl I want to go with though. Short, really annoying, a total know-it-all. I think you might know her," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"I wish we could," she said sighing.

"Why can't we? I mean this, our _thing_ is going really well, right?" he asked.

"Our _thing_? Eloquently put, Mr Malfoy," she said, laughing before continuing "But yes, it's going really well."

"Well, then, why can't we tell people?"

"Draco, we've been over this. We decided not to tell people until we're out of Hogwarts," she said dismissively.

Draco knew she was right, the next few months at Hogwarts would be hell if word got out that they were dating. However, that didn't stop him from wanting to shout it from the roof tops. It was excruciating, knowing other men, like Weasley and MacLaggen thought Granger to be single. _She is mine_ , he thought, pulling her closer before falling asleep.

Draco woke up next morning with Hermione still resting on his chest and he nuzzled her, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, before waking her up.

"Morning, beautiful," he said. She looked sleepily at him and smiled for a second before sitting up bolt upright.

"What time is it? Are we late?" she asked frantically before she got up and started to collect her clothes from the floor.

"Yeez, are you always like this in the mornings? Breakfast haven't even started yet," he said, yawning.

"Oh, okay. I need a shower. See you at breakfast," she said, giving him a quick kiss before hurrying out the door. He watched her go, making a mental note he ought to teach her how to relax.

Later that day, Draco was sitting on the bleachers, Gryffindor players swirling in the air above the pitch, but he wasn't watching them. His eyes were fixed on the tall, curly-haired man who stood shouting at the side-lines. _McLaggen_. Draco thought it was pathetic; he wasn't even on the team so what was he doing shouting instructions to the players? Potter seemed to agree, looking rather irritated with McLaggen. But that was none of Draco's concern, he was just waiting for a moment alone with the bastard and when the practice had finished he called out:

"McLaggen".

The big man stopped in his tracks, looking bemused at him before walking over to where he stood.

"What?" McLaggen asked when he approached him. Draco didn't answer, instead he slammed his fist into him, savouring the sound of snapping bones and sight of blood trickling down McLaggen's dumb face, before hitting him again and again. Draco only stopped when he felt his knuckles bleeding, and wiping the back of his hands against his robes, he started towards the castle. He knew McLaggen would've probably taken him in a fair fight, but this wasn't a fight, he thought, this was revenge. And it was sweet.


	9. The fight

"Malfoy, a word?" Hermione said darkly once she'd found him outside the dungeons with Zabini, Knott and some other Slytherins she didn't know the names of. Draco looked at her warily, but followed her down the hall nonetheless. She led them to the girl's bathroom on the first floor and whammed the door open.

"Are you insane?!" Hermione screeched after she'd checked the stalls making sure they were alone. And they were, except for an affronted-looking Moaning Myrtle who'd opened her mouth to speak, but Hermione ignored her. She didn't wait for an answer from Draco but continued with unyielding force:

"You destroyed his face! He's having trouble breathing because of you!" She was referring to McLaggen, who'd staggered into the Great Hall that morning with a face bearing a close resemblance to a pile of cold-cuts. She was panting, not remembering the last time she'd been this angry.

"So," Malfoy said callously.

"So, _so_ " she said forebodingly, "You're a maniac! Putting aside the fact that you beat a man senseless, have you any idea how this will look?" she shouted.

Draco looked almost bored, standing leaned up against one of the stalls.

"I don't care how it looks, Granger. That scum physically harmed you. And I'm sorry but I'm not going to allow some vile bastard to put his hands on my girlfriend." he said through gritted teeth.

Hermione had been about to retort, but fell silent at the word _girlfriend_. This was the first time he'd referred to her as such and she couldn't help thinking the timing was terrible. _They were in the middle of a fight, for Merlin's sake!_ Still, she'd felt a jolt of excitement when he'd said it.

"I am a grown woman. And it's 1999! I don't need a man to protect me, I'm perfectly capable," she started, but he cut her off.

"Really? Then why didn't I see any bruises on McLaggen?" Draco countered.

"Oh, I don't know? Could it be because I'm not some immature prat who needs to resort to violence to win an argument?" she said sarcastically, glaring at him.

Draco glared back at her, annoyed that she was half right. She was, after all, a very capable witch, something she's proven over and over again. Not only that, she was smart. Smarter than anyone he knew and when it came to verbal discussion, her opponent didn't stand a chance. But she was wrong in thinking that it made her invulnerable.

"Whatever, it's done. What do you want me to do about it?" he said, attempting to make his way out from the bathroom, but Hermione blocked his path.

"Apologize to him and promise me you'll never to anything like this again," she said daringly. Draco laughed, unable to help himself, did she seriously expect him to apologize to the man that had manhandled and scared her just that previous day?

"Oh, yeah. That's going to happen," he sniggered.

"I'm serious," she said

"I know you are, and I'm telling you I will apologize to that piece of shit when hell freezes" he said stiffly, brushing into her shoulder as he walked past her and slamming the door as he left.

Draco felt irritated with her the rest of the day. Didn't she understand what she meant to him? Could she really think, him defending her honour a bad thing? He recalled her shouting that it was the year 1999. _So what_ , he thought, did that mean that men somehow had turned into fuzzy pink bunnies or that women had gained twenty kilos in muscle weight? If that's what she thought, she seriously needed a reality check. Wandering back to the dungeon later that afternoon, he heard some Slytherins laughing loudly in the corridor ahead, their voices growing louder as he approached them.

"He's alive!" Blaise exclaimed when he caught sight of Draco "We thought Granger would've torn you to shreds by now."

Draco felt as though he'd just stepped into a cold shower. How could they possible know?

"What are you on about?" Draco said superciliously in an attempt to keep his composure.

"That Gryffindor gossip - Lavender or whatever she's called, overheard you two at each other's' throats in the girl's bathroom, and she told the whole school about it," Blaise said, laughing even louder now.

This news left Draco feeling better than he'd expected. At least people would know now, he thought imagining being able to walk down the corridors with her, holding her hand.

"I get that she's pissed though, her dating McLaggen and all. Why'd you beat him up?" Knott interjected.

Draco felt his heart sink. But of course, they thought Hermione was yelling at him because he'd beat up her _boyfriend_. Would McLaggen be as quick to jump to the wrong conclusions, he thought, would he too think Hermione had been sticking up for him? The thought made him sick. Realizing that the others were expecting him to answer, he grunted:

"He annoyed me."

They laughed and a few of them slapped his back.

"That's the spirit! Nothing like a random beating to keep the others in line," Blaise said approvingly.

Hermione had gone straight to the dormitory after her fight with Draco and hadn't left since. She was infuriated with him and even considered cancelling their plans to meet in the Room of Requirement that following day. She also felt guilty that McLaggen was in the state he was in. _If it hadn't been for her_ , she thought before telling herself that she wasn't the one to blame. Draco was an adult, responsible for his own actions and if he'd let her in on his little plans no doubt she would have stopped him. She was grinding her teeth, staring up at the ceiling when she decided she didn't want to spend her Sunday evening obsessing about Malfoy. On that note, she got up and made her way down to the common room, stopping in her tracks about to enter it. Everyone in the room were looking at her and she heard quiet murmurs from left to right. Her eyes fixed on Harry, standing over at the window.

"What's going on?" she asked him in a voice jam-packed with worry. Had something happened? Was someone hurt? Had there been more disappearances? she thought frantically.

"Oh, nothing. Everyone's just impressed with you bashing Malfoy," Harry said, adjusting his glasses, and smiling at her.

 _They all knew?_ She thought, panic getting a hold of her now. _No, no Merlin no_. This was bad, really bad. _But_ , she thought, if they all knew then why was Harry smiling? Then spotting at a cheerful Ron, sitting on the window ledge, she relaxed, knowing that there was no way her ex-boyfriend would be smiling had he known she was screwing Malfoy.

"Oh, that," she said dimly, glancing around the room at the other Gryffindor's who were all beaming at her now. She smiled back at them timidly, however, her smile faltered when she saw McLaggen, blowing her a kiss from the opposite side of the room. As relieved as she was that they hadn't found out about her and Draco, she wasn't all that keen on them thinking she had feelings for McLaggen.

Draco woke the next morning with a blazing headache, not having heard from Hermione since their argument he hoped that their plans to meet that evening were still on. The irritation he'd felt with her the day before had dispersed and he longed to touch her. _Tonight_ , he reminded himself and dragged himself from the bed to go to breakfast. Entering the Great Hall, he caught Hermione's eyes and she gave him a small nod, which he took as confirmation on their plans. However, as he sat down at the Slytherin table and surreptitiously glancing back to her, he thought she still looked annoyed. He prayed to Lucifer that she wasn't planning on having another row with him, knowing he didn't have the strength for it.

"Do my eyes deceive me or does Granger still look annoyed with you?" Blaise asked and Draco gave him a deadpan stare.

"I really couldn't care less if she is," he answered, before taking a swig of pumpkin juice.

"Well, perhaps you should. The whole school seem to be under the impression that she won that little argument you guys had yesterday," Blaise started.

"So," Draco said impassively, tracing his fingers on the edge of his glass.

" _So_ , I think it prudent for us to put little miss perfect in her place. We could do it tonight, when she's patrolling," Blaise plotted eagerly, and Draco felt his stomach turn. This conversation was reminiscent of the one's he'd used to have before the war, at a time when he'd still lacked any trace of having a moral compass. He was a different person now, he thought when images of McLaggen's bloody face surfaced in his mind.

"That's obtuse" he said to Blaise, working hard to keep his voice levelled "why would I want to see that obnoxious bitch outside of school. It's bad enough having to endure her during class".

It was lucky that he was a good actor, Draco thought, because if he hadn't been he was sure Zabini would've seen the guilt on his face when calling Hermione "an obnoxious bitch".

Hermione was intrigued by the conversation Draco and Zabini was having and she wished she'd been able to make out what they were saying. She thought her boyfriend looked more like his old self than ever, sitting leaned back in his chair wearing a haughty expression. Frustrated, she pulled her eyes away from them and started to browse through the Daily Prophet. There was a big article on the anti-muggle group Nightshade. It turned out it hadn't just been rumours, they actually existed. And in the latest developments they'd claimed responsibly for the steadily increasing number of muggle-born disappearences. Hermione flinched when she read the name _Mary Cattermole_ on the list of missing witches, remembering her as the witch they'd helped escape from the Ministry in the previous year. Hadn't the poor woman been through enough? she thought angrily and closed the newspaper forcefully.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ron asked with a startled expression.

"It just feels like it's happening all over again. The persecution of muggles and muggleborns, only now the perpetrators call themselves Nightshade instead of Death eaters," she said.

"I think we can be fairly certain they're one and the same," Harry interjected.

"Do you think they're still alive? The people who are missing I mean," Ron asked them cautiously.

"I doubt it," Harry said and Hermione knew he wasn't being callous. Harry just wasn't a fan of sugar-coating things and if the war had taught them anything – it was that pretending that there was no threat didn't make it go away. Just ask Fudge.


	10. The dance

Draco had difficulties finishing his dinner that evening since all he could think about was what was going to happen after. Hermione and him had met in the Room of Requirement on several occasions before, but for some reason it felt more urgent this time. He felt like he had to see her, no matter what and wondered vaguely if it had something to do with them having had their first real fight. But that was ridiculous, he thought, couples fight all the time and their argument hadn't even been of great magnitude. As far as Draco was concerned, that was, perhaps Granger felt differently.

"You're staring at her again," Blaise said matter-of-factly, causing Draco to spill juice all over his shirt.

"Wh-What?" he stuttered, hastening to take his gaze of Hermione, whom he had in fact been staring at.

"You're so transparent," he continued and Draco felt his throat tighten. Was it apparent then, how he felt about Granger?

"I mean it's so obvious you want revenge, why not give into it?" Blaise continued, rubbing his unshaven chin.

Draco relaxed, once again Zabini had misinterpreted the situations and he couldn't help thinking that if people continued being this thick he could be kissing Hermione openly and no one would be the wiser.

"I'm trying to be a better person, Blaise," he said before scourgifying his shirt clean.

"Whatever, I'm just saying," he started, looking shiftily at Hermione, before adding "you know, if it wasn't for her being in _Gryffindor_ I might've just asked her to the dance."

Draco clenched his jaw, looking daggers at Zabini. Why was it that every sleazeball out there wanted to date his girlfriend?

"What? She didn't humiliate _me_ ," he chuckled, once again misinterpreting the angry look on Draco's face.

"Whatever," he said before rising from his seat and leaving the Great Hall, careful not to look at Hermione. Reaching the Room of Requirement, he didn't bother waiting for her before getting in. And once inside he noticed that there had been some changes to the room. Where there had once been empty space, there was now a table and two chairs, a small sofa and next to the bed stood a large bookcase, filled with hundreds of books.

"What the hell," he uttered quietly as he heard Hermione enter behind him.

"Wow, did you do all this?" Hermione breathed.

"How could I have?" he said, looking at her awe-struck expression.

"Well you must've, this room becomes what you ask of it and you were here first," she said.

"But then, how did you get in? I mean we must've been thinking the same thing, right?" Draco asked uncertainty.

"Oh, well, yes, I guess you're right," she said smiling now, as though she understood something he didn't.

"But what does it mean?" he asked.

"I think it means that we've just taken our relationship to the next level," she said, looking positively beaming now.

Comprehension dawned on him. Their relationship had gone from being about sex to being serious. Not that it had ever just been about sex for him. But perhaps them having a fight had been a good thing.

"Well, would you like to read or..." he started, not getting a chance to finish his sentence before Hermione lunged at him, kissing him with all her might. Draco pushed her towards the bed, simultaneously unfastening his belt and pulling off her shirt. Within a minute, their clothes were in a pile on the floor and he was, once again, transfixed by her naked body.

"You're so beautiful," he said huskily, positioning himself on top of her, watching her blush at his words. He'd never get tired of this, he thought, pushing into her and savouring her moans.

After over an hour's hard work, he collapsed on the bed feeling exhausted. But she quickly draped her leg around his waist.

"Draco, we're not done," she whined.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he said closing his eyes and wondering if women knew how much effort men put into sex. Sure, they had to deal with some pain, he knew that, but from an objective point of view men were ones doing most of the work involved with it. Not to mention the mental strength it took to refrain from coming until she'd gotten enough orgasms. _But then again, there are worse things_ , he thought smiling to himself, before pulling her close to him and falling asleep nuzzled in her hair.

He was woken the next morning by Hermione in the midst of her usual morning routine, which he secretly referred to as her "stressed chicken-dance". Drowsily, he watched her pick up her clothes from the floor at the same time trying to flatten her crow's nest hair using her hands.

"Hermione, must you do this every time?" he asked "why can't you just come back to bed for a second?"

She glared at him, haphazardly pulling on her shirt.

"Yeah, that's an idea! Then I can be late for class sporting the latest fashion: wrongly buttoned blouse and sex-hair!" she snapped sarcastically. Draco looked at her incredulous, before burying his face in his pillow with a groan. Would he even understand women?

Shooting him an annoyed glance, Hermione said "see you later" over her shoulder before hurrying out the door. She was running down the halls, feeling starved after last night and hoping desperately that she wasn't too late for breakfast. However, reaching the Great Hall, she was relieved to see it was still packed with students and after sitting down opposite Ron and Harry, she practically devoured a stack of syrupy pancakes in one go.

"Hungry much?" Ron said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut up," she said, feeling self-conscious about wearing the same clothes she'd had on the previous day and her hair being even messier than usual.

"Well, aren't we touchy this morning," Ron tutted "Where did you go off to yesterday, I didn't see you in the common room?"

"No, I was busy. Schoolwork," she lied. She felt guilty lying to them all the time, knowing there was only one thing she could do to put an end to it. _Tell them_ , said a voice in her head. But I can't, it's not the time, she thought. _Coward_ , the voice told her. But, then she remembered something.

"Hey, Ginny!" she called to the other side of the table where Ginny sat talking to Neville, and hearing her name, she looked up at Hermione.

"Yeah?

"Can we go into Hogsmeade later? I'm in desperate need of a dress for Friday," Hermione said with a smile and watched Ginny nod excitedly.

Draco had missed breakfast. Again. And he might've also skived off all of that day's lessons. However, he didn't feel in the least bit guilty about it, thinking that last night had been worth it. But it was afternoon now and he was starting to get restless, wondering how to turn the room back into his practice space. He hadn't practiced in weeks and thought he should resume his training. Putting on his clothes he attempted to force the room to transform by concentrating and thinking _I need a place to practice_ , but nothing happened, so he tried a different approach. Now standing just outside the room he once again concentrated on the thought and watched the door magically appear before him. When he opened it, the room had been turned back into its former self.

"Brilliant", he muttered, before going ahead with his training.

After hours of practicing every jinx and hex he could think of, Draco felt satisfied and left for dinner. Entering the Great Hall he immediately spotted Hermione talking animatedly to Ginny. From the look of it, they were discussing the dance and Draco felt a pang of grief in his chest, remembering Hermione and him wouldn't be attending together.

Hermione stood scrutinizing her reflection in the mirror. It was the night of the dance and she was wearing a red strapless dress that Ginny had helped her pick out, which according to Ginny made her look "ravishing". Her hair looked sleek and polished and she'd even taken the effort to put on some light make-up. Content with her appearance, she left her dorm to meet up with the others in the common room. Ron, Harry, Ginny and Neville all looked great; the boys wearing black dress robes and Ginny wearing a fitted lavender dress.

"Wow, you look great Hermione," Ron told her when she walked down the stairs.

"Thanks Ron," she said, before asking the room at large "shall we?"

"Well, you guys go ahead. I said to wait here for…" Ron started, and then with a guilty look at Hermione, he finished "Hannah".

"As in Hannah Abbot?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. She was glad to notice she didn't feel a shred of jealousy. In fact, she felt happy for him.

"Yeah," Ron said, scratching the back of his head, still looking embarrassed.

"That's great," Hermione said sincerely, watching Ron relax.

"You really think so?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I really do," she said smiling broadly at him, before saying "Well, I guess we'll see you and Hannah at the dance".

And all of them except Ron left for the Great Hall. Arriving there they saw that the vast room had been turned into a winter wonderland, with silver and white decorations and snow falling from the enchanted ceiling. It was perfect, she thought as they went to get drinks, finding that they too were winter themed. Hermione settled on a white drink with a frosted rim called "snowflake" and sipping on it she spotted Draco. Their eyes locked across the Hall and she watched him mouth the word "beautiful". _This is ridiculous_ , said the voice in her head. There she stood just metres away from him, _her boyfriend_ , who was looking indescribably sexy in the black suit he was wearing and she couldn't even talk to him. She prepared herself to argue her usual case for why they should wait with going public, when she suddenly put down her drink resolutely on the bar, thinking: _Sod it!_

Draco watched Hermione stride the length of the hall towards him and felt his heartbeat quicken. What reason would she come up with for talking to him this time? As far as he was aware he hadn't beaten up any of her other suitors lately.

"Hi you," she said, approaching him.

"Hi yourself," he said in a levelled voice, not sure why he felt the need to keep his composure. Was it because they were in a room full of people or was it because he wanted to keep his own expectations lowered?

"Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" she said with a mischievous smile, which made him drop all pretence.

"You're serious?" he asked, smiling at her now.

"Of course, are you going to ask me to dance or not?" she demanded.

"Well yes, would the lady like to dance?" he asked, putting on a serious face and straightening up.

"I'd like that very much," she said laughing. Pulling her towards him, he put his hand on the small of her back, brushing her hair with his lips.

"What happened to being discreet?" He murmured.

"Let them talk!" she answered in an offhand voice, resting her chin on his shoulders as they swirled over the dancefloor. Draco felt his insides soar, then looking around the room he could see that Hermione had been right; people were already talking. However, he didn't mind it, knowing what it meant. _She was officially his now_.


	11. The confrontation

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters of the book. They are the property of J.K Rowling, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only / Also, I'm not native in english so please let me know of any errors and please review!_

Draco was still dancing with Hermione, holding her small frame tight against his chest, when he lowered his mouth to her ear.

"Want to get out of here?", he whispered, watching her peek up at him and nod in consent. He twirled her around, his eyes moving greedily over the shape of her body as he did so. She really looked mouth-watering in that dress, he thought and feeling the familiar thug below his navel, he pulled her close.

"Let's go", he murmured in her ear before leading her out from the Great Hall. Once they were outside he couldn't stop himself and moving his eager hands up her body he pushed her towards a shadowy corner in the end of the passage. Preoccupied as he was, Draco didn't notice they weren't alone. Crouched down behind a bench just feet from them, stood a small house, watching them with beady eyes.

They were standing by one of the large portraits in the passage leading to the kitchen and Ron was talking elatedly to Hannah, Ginny and Harry. He was in the midst of doing his recap of last weekends game against Hufflepuff, when he was interrupted by a loud crack. Kreacher had emerged from the air, making them all jump.

"Kreacher," Harry said after he'd quickly found himself "has something happened? Is it Hermione? Is she alright?

"She's been dragged off by Draco Malfoy," Kreacher reported in a bored voice.

"WHAT?" Ron shouted "Where are they?"

"In the south passage, outside the Great Hall," the elf droned on.

And with one look at each other, Ron and Harry ran up the stairs and charged through the Great Hall, not minding that they were running into people on their way. Sheer panic pulsed through Ron's veins. He'd been expecting Malfoy to seek revenge after his argument with Hermione on that previous Sunday and make no mistake, if that sly piece of shit had so much as broken a single hair on her head, he'd kill him. Running down the south passage, he saw them. Malfoy had Hermione pushed up against the wall and he appeared to be biting her neck. Ron felt a surge of blind rage and in one swift move he'd pulled the man off her and shoved him to the ground.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you freak!" he shouted, panting and stared down at Malfoy, who looked deadly.

"Ron!" cried Hermione, sitting down on the floor next to their sworn enemy.

"What are you doing? Get away from him, he just tried to rape you for Merlin's sake!" Harry growled, pulling her arm. The man on the floor looked stunned.

"Rape her?" Malfoy said in disbelief, looking from Harry to Hermione to Ron.

Something had snapped in Ron when hearing what Harry had said, and he wanted nothing more than to rip the pale-faced man to shreds. But there was something off with the situation and he restrained himself from lunging at Malfoy and looked at Hermione.

"Guys, you've got it all wrong. He wasn't trying to hurt me," she started, struggling with the words when Malfoy cut in.

"We're together. Hermione is my _girlfriend_ ," he said, wiping blood away from his lip. _No, no, no_ , it couldn't be, Ron thought, but one quick glance at Hermione confirmed it. She was blushing, clearly embarrassed.

"What?" Harry said sharply, glaring at Malfoy before looking at Hermione "Is this true?"

"Yes," she said in a small voice "and I didn't want you to find out this way".

"Why haven't you told us?" Harry said flatly.

"Well, I was going to", she started and then she cried out "it's just that its _Malfoy_."

Malfoy's eyes darted to her and he looked annoyed.

"Gee, thanks," he said glaring at her.

"Come on, Draco, you know what I mean. We all used to hate each other!" Hermione pleaded.

"That hasn't changed as far as I'm concerned," Ron said, shooting Malfoy a look of pure loathing.

"Well it has for me. He's a completely different person now, and if you'd only take the time to see that," Hermione started but Harry cut her off.

"Fat chance there, he was a Death Eater, Hermione!" he said coldly. Ron murmured in agreement. Now it was Malfoy's turn to look embarrassed.

"I don't care. People change. Besides, I don't need your permission. I'm not going to stop seeing him," Hermione said with a note of finality. Ron felt nauseous. The thought of her with Malfoy, after all his family had put her though made his stomach turn. At the same time, he could see the battle was lost, once Hermione had made up her mind about something there was no turning back. _And it was her life_ , he thought bitterly.

Hermione felt dizzy, walking to the Room of Requirement hand in hand with Draco. The confrontation with Ron and Harry had left her drained and she felt like a complete idiot, wishing she'd told them weeks ago.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Draco said in an attempt to lighten the mood. She smiled at him appreciatively.

"Yeah, it was real cosy," she said ironically, feeling relived when they finally reached the room, she craved nothing more than some peace and quiet – away from all the drama. They didn't have sex that night, instead they stayed up talking for hours about the future; their career plans, where they would live and how many kids they wanted. Hermione had felt Draco stiffened when she'd brought up that last subject. All and all, it hadn't been a terrible night, she thought before falling asleep with her head resting on his chest.

She woke up the next morning feeling refreshed, it was Saturday which meant she didn't have to stress getting ready. Resting her chin on Draco's chest she noticed him still sleeping and she watched his carved features for a while, thinking she was the luckiest woman alive. As unexpected as their relationship was, she thought she'd always known there was more to Draco Malfoy than first met the eye. The haughty manner, the rants about pure-blood superiority and the persistent bullying had always felt like a façade, a well-rehearsed performance, separate from who he really was. Hermione felt herself starting to get restless, she wasn't very skilled in the art of sleeping in, and she decided to sneak off to the library. The Ministry had sent her some reading material on elf legislation that she wanted to sift through and she was sure Draco wouldn't mind. He, as oppose to her, treasured a good lay-in. She scribbled a note to Draco saying where he could find her before going to Gryffindor Tower to change. Then, after arriving outside the library, wearing a fresh set of clothes, she heard someone come up behind her and spinning round she saw it was Blaise Zabini, who approached her looking victorious.

"Good morning Granger!" he said jubilantly, making Hermione suspicious. Blaise Zabini and she had barely uttered a word to each other and there he was seemingly happy to see her.

"Morning," she said hesitantly.

"You know, I heard about you and Malfoy," he said in a would-be casual voice.

"Oh yeah," she answered.

"Yeah, and I thought I should let you know that he's only toying with you. I mean just the other day he called you an obnoxious bitch saying he didn't want anything to do with you," he said, looking pleased when he saw her freeze. "Anyway, I guess he figured you had some good qualities," he said staring blatantly at her chest. Hermione felt cold. Blaise was a friend of Draco's and she couldn't understand why he'd go out of his way to insult her.

"What is it with you that makes you so special?" he said, drawing closer to her. She wanted to shout for him to back off, but felt too shocked to move. He was close enough for her to feel his breath on her face now and he lowered his tall figure so that his mouth was close to her ear.

"He'll get tired of you soon enough. And you should know that I don't mind leftovers," he whispered before backing away laughing. Hermione stood glued to the spot not daring to move until he'd gone from her sight. After the run-in with Zabini, she had difficulties concentrating on elf legislation, but read through the paperwork nonetheless. She'd settled on a seat in the furthest corner of the library, that way she could keep close watch on the entrance in case he'd come back to harass her some more. She'd never valued the company of Mrs Pinch more than she did that day. Calmed by the sounds the strict librarian made when sorting books and putting them on shelves, Hermione did manage to get some work done.

Draco was still in bed when Hermione returned to the Room of Requirement later that afternoon and as soon as she came close enough to the bed, he pulled her down on it, inhaling the scent of her hair as she landed next to him.

"Where you've been? I've missed you," he murmured.

"At the library. I wrote you a note," she said and he vaguely remembered picking up a piece of parchment from the table and reading it a couple of hours before.

"Right," he said.

"Something happened on my way to the library and I'm not sure I should tell you," Hermione said and Draco suddenly felt wide awake. He felt unnerved by the shakiness in her voice.

"What?" he demanded, sitting up and looking seriously at her.

"Well," she started, glancing nervously at him, and then "I ran into Zabini and he said the most horrible things."

Draco felt his pulse quicken and had to look away from her before speaking.

"What did he say?" he asked, trying and failing to keep his voice light.

"He said that you we're only messing with me and that you thought I was an obnoxious bitch whom you didn't want anything to do with," Hermione said, talking very fast.

"Did he now?" Draco said malevolently, staring at a spot above her head.

"But answer me this, did you say those things?" Hermione asked and he looked back at her.

"Yes, but it was all part of the act. You were the one wanting to keep our relationship a secret, remember?"

"Right," she said, not quite able to keep the hurt from her eyes. Draco felt his chest fall.

"I don't actually think that, you silly girl, I'm crazy about you," he said, tilting her chin up, "you know that."

"I do. And I'm crazy about you too," she said smiling up at him.

Then, remembering what they'd been talking about, he asked:

"Was that all he said?"

"Well" she started, glancing nervously at him again "he asked what was so special about me and told me you would grow tired of me and that he didn't mind leftovers," she finished in a grimace.

Draco hadn't prepared for this and was unable to contain his anger this time. He jumped from the bed and without worrying that it would scare her, he grabbed a vase from the table and smashed it into the wall. The glass scattered over the floor and Hermione looked struck.

"This is all my fault. I should've known," he said in anguish, clutching his hands to his head.

"That's ridiculous, he's your friend, how could you possibly expect him to say something like that?" Hermione said urgently.

"Because he's a bastard that's why. But don't worry Hermione, he won't bother you again," he promised through gritted teeth.

"Great. Now can you calm down?" she asked, gesturing for him to get back to bed.

He nodded defeated, sitting down next to her and thinking that men truly were idiots.


	12. The break

The salacious news of Draco and her dating had been overshadowed that week by the news that several muggle-born Ministry workers had gone missing the same night as the dance. People were frightened, if not even people employed by the Ministry were safe – what did that mean for the rest of them? Hermione's thoughts went to her parents, who were no longer under the Ministry's protection. But they're not magic, she thought, they're muggles. Surely, Nightshade wouldn't have any interest in them.

"What I don't understand," said Ron, helping himself to some ginger snap cookies. It was Friday, a week before Christmas break and the breakfast table was stocked with Christmas puddings, mince pies, fruit bread and an assortment of holiday cookies.

"What don't you understand?" said Hermione when Ron gave no indication of continuing his train of thought.

"I don't understand what their purpose is, Nightshade I mean. Why are they doing this?" Ron said, nagging on a cookie. Harry looked up at him with a serious expression.

"To evoke fear in people, to avenge the death of their master, to carry on his legacy," he said flatly, and Hermione could see the anger gleam in the green eyes behind his glasses. She knew he felt anxious being stuck at Hogwarts when there was so much work to be done out there - in the real world.

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?" Ron said.

"Of course, we should be out there. We should help. We have first-hand knowledge about what we're up against, not to mention experience," Harry answered him bitterly.

"So you're set on becoming an Auror then," Hermione asked eyeing him over the top of her newspaper.

"Yes," he said simply.

Hermione turned to Ron.

"What about you?" she asked

"I'm not sure, I kind of think we've done our part in fighting The Dark Arts, you know. By destroying Voldemort and all," he said, looking shiftily at Harry, who said nothing.

"So what are you going to do after school then?" she asked, relieved that she at least didn't have to worry about one of her two best friends.

"I was thinking about helping George out with the shop, you know now that he's," Ron started, unable to finish the sentence, and Hermione was sure she knew why. She missed him too, _Fred,_ the Weasley twin who'd been killed in the war that previous spring.

"Hey, Granger, are we still on for tonight?" Hermione heard Draco call out to her and she looked up in his direction. His expression was happy, a stark contrast to the expression she'd seen on Ron's face.

"Yeah," she said quickly, feeling Ron and Harry's eyes on her. They still refused to acknowledge the fact that she was in a relationship with Draco and it suited her just fine. At least this way, there wouldn't be anything for them to argue about. She watched Draco flash her a smile and walking over to the Slytherin table.

"So, are you staying here during Christmas break?" Ron said pretending her exchange with Malfoy hadn't happened.

"No, my parents wrote telling me they wanted me home for Christmas this year. They're worried, you know with everything going on," she answered, her eyes running over the list of missing persons featured in the Prophet.

"But they're muggles, how did they find out about it?" Ron asked frowning.

"Our neighbour is a witch, Angela Blakelock. She's American," Hermione answered.

"So they have Wizarding schools there too?" Ron said incredulous.

"Really Ron! Are you telling me you've never heard of Ilvermorny?" Hermione said, astounded at his ignorance.

"Oh, well, yeah that rings a bell," he said lamely.

Looking around at all the crestfallen faces in the Great Hall, Draco felt a twinge of guilt. There he was happier than he's ever been, while the school was in a state of mourning due to all the disappearances and the looming threat posed by the anti-muggle group Nightshade. It wasn't as if he didn't care, but it seemed nothing could put a damper on the joy he experienced from being together with Granger, who was by far the most amazing person he'd ever met. Well, perhaps there was one thing, he thought darkly when he saw Zabini back from the hospital wing. Draco had been the one to put him there. A stunt which had not only landed him in detention but he'd also had to endure an hour of McGonagall shouting herself hoarse at him. "Two muggle duels in one month! I've never heard of such lack of human decency!", she'd screeched at him and Draco had almost felt the urge punch her too. Perhaps he did have an issue with anger management, he thought.

"You're back" Draco acknowledged sitting down opposite Blaise, whose face still bore the markings of their fight. Zabini had been quicker than McLaggen though, managing a few good swings at Draco.

"Yeah, and you're lucky to be alive after that stunt you pulled," Blaise said through gritted teeth.

"Can you blame me? You threatened my girlfriend," he said.

"It was a joke, mate!" Blaise exclaimed.

"Well, she didn't find it funny. And frankly neither did I," he said, realizing he wasn't actually angry at him anymore. It seemed his relationship with Granger was turning him into a pathetic.

"Fine, but now we're square," Blaise said, putting his glass of chilled pumpkin juice against the bruise over his eye and the sight was so pitiful, Draco couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, we're square," he chuckled.

Three mince pies and a heaping pile of cookies later, Draco left for class with the others. They had Potions together with the Gryffindor's first lesson on Friday's and he spent the hour messing up his Alihotsy Draught, because he couldn't take his eyes off Granger. She, as oppose to him, managed splendidly and the perfect blue fumes circling over her potion granted her twenty points for Gryffindor, handed out by Slughorn. Her dazzling smile at him when she'd received the points, had caused his knees to buckle and he'd had to hold onto the table for support. Yep, no doubt he was turning into a pathetic.

Hermione felt accomplished at the end of that day's lessons having successfully brewed the Alihotsy Draught in Potions, succeeded to cast a countering charm for hiccups in Charms and she'd even managed to transfigure a snake into a broomstick in Transfiguration, earning her a total of sixty points for Gryffindor. Light on her step, she walked to the Room of Requirement where she was meeting Draco as per usual and when she got there, she saw he was already outside it waiting for her.

"Hello beautiful," he greeted her and before she had a chance to reply, his lips were on hers and he pulled her gently towards him.

"Whoa, what was that for?" she asked when they broke apart.

"No reason except me being happy to see you," he said, pushing the door to the room open and entering it.

"I'd say," she said, following him inside.

Draco sat down at the table, reaching into his bag and pulling from it; cheese pies, cucumber salad, bread and a bottle of pumpkin juice. He placed the food on the table. Food being the one thing the room didn't provide; Draco had sneaked down to the kitchen to collect it so that they could finally have dinner together. He thought it excruciating watching her from the Slytherin table, not being able to converse with her during dinner.

"Oh, this is lovely! Thanks Draco," Hermione said earnestly, watching him set the table before sitting down opposite him.

"I really don't like not being able to have dinner with you Hermione. I mean it's bad enough not having breakfast and lunch together. But dinner! I mean, that's couple's time, right?" he said, watching her smile at him.

"Wow, look at you all grown up," Hermione laughed, but then "but yeah, I feel the same way. At home dinner was always considered family time"

"Yeah, so therefore I was thinking now that we won't have school for a while we could go into Hogsmeade," he started, but seeing Hermione look crestfallen, he asked "What?"

"I thought I'd told you, I'm not staying at Hogwarts for the holidays," she said and Draco felt as though he'd fallen into icy water. She was leaving?

"So, you're telling me I won't see you for three weeks, is that it?" he asked, unable to keep a note of agitation from his voice. He knew he couldn't be mad at her. He hadn't actually asked her if she would stay, he'd just assumed.

"Yes, but Draco you must understand that my parents are worried, what with everything going on," she spoke.

"And what about me. Don't you think I worry? Do you seriously think I will rest assured, not knowing that you're safe!" He said and there was desperation in his voice now. She couldn't go. He just wouldn't allow it.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I've already promised them and the tickets are booked," she said flatly.

"I can't believe we're on a break," Draco said, more to himself than to her.

Hermione felt her throat tighten, recalling an episode of the popular muggle show Friends, where two of the main characters we're on a break. Then suddenly, anger erupted in her chest.

"So that's what you want is it? A break. Is it so difficult for you to go without sex for three weeks that you want a break?!" she said with a note of hysteria. Draco looked at her with a stunned expression.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" she said in answer, feeling on the verge of tears now.

"I'm just saying that we're going to be on a break for three weeks," he said looking utterly perplexed.

"So you don't want to see other people?" she asked in a small voice.

"No, are you mad? Why would I want that?" he said, laughing now.

Hermione felt herself relaxed, this was clearly a case of miscommunication.

"Well, I thought," she started, and then "in the muggle world being on a break basically means a trial version of breaking up."

"Okay, well then let's make it clear that that's not what I want. I want you Hermione. And only you," Draco said earnestly.

"Good," Hermione said with relief.

"And can I assume that you want me. And only me?" Draco said, looking searchingly at her.

"Of course," she said.

After finishing their dinner, they proceeded to the bed and then followed hours of blissful sex, during which there was no mention of breaks or holiday's spent apart.


	13. The graveyard

_**Hey guys,** the lack of reviews is causing me to think I must be an appallingly bad writer to render my audience so completely speechless. If you want me to continue with this story please let me know. Also, I have the story outlined but there is room for alterations so if you have any suggestions I'm all ears._

It was the night before Hermione was leaving and Draco felt hollow. He still couldn't believe he wouldn't see her for three weeks and he was feeling gloomy, despite Hermione's many attempts to cheer him up; she'd finished all of his homework for him, knitted him a scarf carrying his initials and just that previous night she'd wore a very sexy set of red lingerie for him. She said she'd picked the colour red because it was Christmas. However, not even the sight of Hermione in a tight, red corset could lift his spirits. He'd never been much for Christmas, but being together with Hermione there was no escaping the stupid holiday. His eyes wandered over the decorations she'd conjured up on the day before; there was gold glitter, green and red ornaments, candy canes and of course – a mistletoe. It had all been done so they could have a pre-Christmas day together. But all they did was to remind him that Hermione and him wouldn't be spending the holiday together. He laid in bed with a sleeping Granger in his arms and pulling her close he inhaled the scent of her hair. It smelled like sugar roasted almonds, and he felt resentful that even that reminded him of Christmas.

"Go to sleep, Draco," she murmured drowsily.

"Can't," he said, brushing her hair with his lips.

"It's only three weeks," she said, resting her chin on his chest, looking at him though partly closed eyelids.

"I know, but I have a bad feeling about this," he said, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"You have a bad feeling about everything. It comes with being an incurable pessimist," she said, and then "It will all be fine, trust me."

"Go to sleep, Granger," he said softly and felt her head rest back down on his chest. Within a few moments he could tell she was asleep.

Draco was already up when Hermione woke next morning and she suspected that he hadn't slept the whole night. She was just about to say something about it when he rolled on top of her.

"Morning," he said and she answered:

"Good morning to you to, did you finally decide to cheer up?"

"Well, I figured we don't have much time so why not make the most of it?" he said and she could feel him press his hips against her under the covers. There was no question about what he'd meant with making the most of their time and she hurried to relieve him of his underwear. _I will miss this_ , she thought as he moved inside her, making her moan with desire. Draco wasn't exactly what you would call small, and it had taken a good month before her body had moulded to his shape. But he was gentle this time and she only experienced the briefest sense of pain, before a tingling sensation of pure pleasure spread from between her legs, up her spine to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Kissing the sweat from his forehead, she heard him groan and felt him shake before collapsing on top of her.

"You know you're cutting off my airways here," Hermione said in a strained voice.

"Oh, sorry," he said, smiling apologetically as he rolled off her.

Three weeks without this, he thought in anguish. Perhaps he could stop her from going by feigning an illness or something?

Ron and Harry was just about to enter the common room, when the latter put a hand on Ron's shoulder. They stood before the portrait of the fat lady, who said in a loud voice:

"Password?"

Ron spun around to face Harry.

"What?"

"I think maybe Hermione and Ginny might be in there", Harry said hesitantly.

"So", Ron asked.

"Well they're leaving today and there's something I need to tell Kreacher," Harry started, when he was interrupted by the fat lady.

"Password?" she demanded again.

"Wait a minute," Ron told her, before turning back to Harry "go on".

"Well, I want to make sure they're safe and have Kreacher keep watch on them," Harry finished.

"But Ginny will be with me", he said.

"Right," said Harry looking uncertain.

"You don't think I can take care of my own sister?" he growled, feeling offended by Harry's lack of confidence in him.

"You promise to look after her, then?" Harry asked, seemingly unconcerned by Ron's irritation with him.

"She was my sister long before she was your girlfriend, mate," Ron said glaring at his best friend.

"Fine", Harry said, and then "Kreacher"

The fat lady gasped as the house-elf came into view with a pop.

"You called, sir," said the house-elf in his usual indifference.

"Yes, I want you to continue to keep track of Hermione Granger during the next three weeks. She lives in London now so you will go there and report back to me if you think she's in any danger," Harry said.

"I just saw her leave the Room of Requirement in the company of Draco Malfoy," the elf said and Ron felt sick, picturing them in the room together.

"Nevermind that," Harry said impatiently, adding "Draco Malfoy is not a threat".

Ron growled at this. The hell he wasn't, he thought darkly.

"Password?" said the fat lady, sounding agitated now.

"For Merlin's sake, would you shut up!" Ron shouted at her. She looked widely affronted and huffed that students ought to learn respect.

The small elf glared suspiciously at Ron before saying to Harry: "Kreacher will track Miss Granger and report back if she's in any danger". Then he disappeared with a crack.

Hermione had kept her composure when saying goodbye to Draco that morning, but sitting on the Hogwarts express watching the snowy school grounds flash by behind the glass, she could feel it crackling. She'd never been one of those girls who _had_ to have a boyfriend, but now that she had one and he was nothing short of amazing, she couldn't help feeling sad about being a part from him. But it was only three weeks, she reminded herself. Hermione felt the train ride go by quickly, owing to the vast amount of literature on elf rights she had to read through. When the train arrived in London she lugged the trunk from the shelf above her compartment and felt excited that she would soon see her parents. The platform 9 ¾ was fairly empty and she had no trouble getting to the brick wall concealing the entrance to the muggleside of King's cross station. She plummeted through the wall, holding an unenthusiastic Crookshanks on one arm and dragging her trunk with the other, and coming out the other side she spotted her mum and dad.

"Darling, there you are!" said her mum hugging her tightly, Crookshanks hissed being caught in between them. Hermione put down the cat before hugging her Dad.

"We've missed you. Sweetheart," he said as they broke a part.

"I've missed you too, and I have so much to tell you," she said.

Draco was sitting in the library, not because he planned on getting any studying done but because the smell of books reminded him of her. This is probably what's she's doing, he thought. Sitting in a library somewhere. Muggles had libraries didn't they? He'd allowed himself one day of moping, then he had to pull himself together. He planned to step up his practice, hang out with Zabini and Knott and then he needed to figure out the answer to what he was going to do with his life. At this point he was only sure of three things: he wanted to spend his future with Granger, he wanted out of the Manor and he never wanted to see or speak to Lucius Malfoy again. The latter meant he would most likely be cut off from the Malfoy fortune, which in turn meant that he had to land a decent job in order to provide for Granger and... His thoughts faltered when an image of a toddler bearing a close resemblance to himself entered his mind. Okay, that's a bit much, he said to himself, Granger and him had only been going out for a couple of months, who knew what could happen in the future. But at that thought an image of Hermione standing next to a faceless man blurred his vision, making him groan.

Hermione and her parents were having tea in the downstairs sitting room and she was telling them about how well she'd done on her exams and how she'd gotten an internship at the Ministry, when the voice in her head said: _Tell them about him_. She ignored it at first, continuing to talk about how she'd be working on improving elfish welfare, when the voice urged her again. _Tell them about him_.

Hermione shifted in her seat on the blue sofa and looked into her parent's proud faces, telling herself to just get it over with.

"And, there's more. I have a boyfriend now," she said, taking a sip of tea.

"yes, we know. Ronald Weasley. We met his parents remember," her mother said, smiling.

"Right, well the thing is, Ron and I broke up," she said.

"And now you have a new boyfriend?" her father asked sternly.

"Yes," Hermione said in a small voice.

"And all this transpired in the few moths you've been at Hogwarts," her father said, holding her gaze.

"Yes, but this time it's different. It feels right," she said, absentmindedly pulling on the fringes of the sofa cushion.

"Who is this boy?" her mother asked, looking curious and Hermione was relived to look away from her father.

"His name is Draco Malfoy," she said.

"Malfoy, _Malfoy_ ", her father said, and then "wasn't his father that chap who got into an argument with Mr Weasley in that bookstore," her father said, and Hermione cursed his excellent memory.

"Yes, that's him," she said in a sigh, pulling on the fringes of the cushion rather ferociously now.

"If I remember correctly, they didn't seem too keen on non-magical folk?" her dad said and Hermione felt her heart sink. Not her parents too, she thought. Wasn't it bad enough that the whole wizarding world seemed to be against Draco and her dating, without muggles being opposed to it too.

"Well, Draco is not his father," said Hermione coldly.

"Draco, is that his name?" said her mother, and then "Draco and Hermione. That sounds nice".

"I don't think so," her father said stiffly.

Hermione felt suddenly angry, why was it that people seemed to think they had a say in whom she chose to date? She was a grown woman, fully able to make her own decisions in life.

"Well, I don't care what you think," Hermione said flatly, and then she said "I'm going for a walk."

She felt bad leaving her mum when it was her dad she was angry with, but it couldn't be helped. She needed some air. Closing the door behind her, she decided to head for Highgate cemetery, and making her way there she shunned her father from her mind, thinking instead of Draco. She wondered what he was doing, imagining him playing wizarding chess with one of the Slytherins in the Great Hall. It wasn't until she'd arrived at Highgate cemetery, that Hermione noticed the thick fog oozing over the ground and walking into the graveyard she felt eerie. _This is ridiculous_ , she thought to herself, she'd been there a million times before and couldn't possibly be afraid of a graveyard after all that she'd been though. Nevertheless, she took her time treading down the path leading out of the cemetery, walking hesitantly and glancing nervously up the tall marble statues of animals and angels. Then she drew in breath, hearing someone or _something_ on the path ahead.

"Anyone there?" she asked shakily, and then she saw something emerge from the shadows cast by the trees. At first, all she could see was a disturbance in the air, like the way heat makes the air wavy in the summer, but then she saw the outlines of a woman. The image was growing stronger as she watched it. It was definitely a woman, her hair was steel grey and her complexion was olive. She was dressed in black robes. Was she a ghost? Hermione was frightened now, standing glued to the spot.

"Good evening Miss Granger," the woman said, but Hermione felt too afraid to answer.

"We're going on a little trip you and I", the woman said with a malevolent smile, before grabbing Hermione's arm.


	14. The capture

**Thanks for the reviews guys** _, I appreciate you taking the time to tell me I'm not an appalling writer :) Things are about to get rocky (no pun intended). Enjoy!_

Hermione felt as though she was being squeezed through time and space, and there was a ringing in her ears. Falling onto a hard, rough surface she saw that they'd landed on some desolate hills by the sea. The wind whipped her face and there was a storm on the dark sea ahead. Hermione snapped into survival mode and her eyes fixed on the wand in the woman's hand. She was holding it steadily pointed at Hermione's chest. She heaved herself from the ground and stared into the woman's silver eyes, between those eyes, her high cheekbones and shiny grey hair the woman was stunningly beautiful.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked.

"Be quiet girl and come over her," the woman said coldly. Hermione did as she was told and the woman proceeded checking the pockets of her coat and jeans. Hermione gathered the woman was looking for her wand, however, she didn't have it. Her wand was still in the house in London, resting on top of the dresser in her bedroom.

"Silly girl, leaving the house without bringing the means to defend yourself," the woman sneered and Hermione couldn't agree more. How could she have been so stupid? Then she watched the woman pull something from her robes with her wand-free hand. It was a black piece of silk.

"Turn around," the woman said and Hermione reluctantly turned her back towards her. Then she felt the woman tie the fabric around her eyes blindfolding her, successfully cutting off Hermione's vision. All she could see was black and Hermione wished there was a spell for x-ray vision, since not being able to see made her even more nervous than she already was.

Harry wasn't staying at the Burrow for Christmas, instead he'd gone to the Order HQ to work with Kingsley, Dawlish and a couple other Aurors in hopes to uncover where Nightshade had their base. It was tiresome work and Dawlish was getting on his nerves with all his comments on Harry being _the Chosen One_. Harry suspected that he thought that Harry being on the mission meant the issue was in the bag. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Harry was just as clueless as the others and all they'd managed to do so far had been to rule out Britain as the base of Nightshade's operation. Granted, this was his first day. They'd been sitting at the big dining room table buried in piles of papers all day and Harry was starting to feel restless. Stretching he rose from his seat and told the other's he was going for a walk. Stepping out from the doorway of number 12 Grimmauld place, he breathed in the cold winter air and was just about to walked down the stairs, when there was a loud crack.

"Kreacher," he said when he saw the tired-looking elf look up at him from the top step.

"It appears that Hermione Granger has been kidnapped," the elf said matter-of-factly.

Harry looked at him incredulous.

"What?"

"She was walking in the cemetery when a grey-haired witch, who Kreacher doesn't know, disapparated with her," the elf said and Harry snapped into action. Leaving the elf on the stairs, he ran down the street until he found a phone booth. He had Hermione's number memorized and dialling it, he could see his hands where shaking. _Kreacher must be mistaken_ , he prayed listening to the signals go through.

"Granger", a male's voice answered on the other line.

"Hi, Mr Granger, it's Harry Potter," he hastened.

"Oh, Harry, how are you?", the man asked.

"I'm fine, thanks. But I need to talk to Hermione. Is she there?" he said urgently.

"No, I'm afraid she's out for a walk. But I can take your number and have her call you back," the man answered and Harry felt his chest fall as the truth hit him. _Hermione was gone, she was really gone._

"No, that's okay, I'll call back later," he said to Mr Granger, struggling to keep his voice levelled. Then he hung up, resting his head against the cool glass. _This isn't happening_ , he thought. He realized he was falling apart and forced to pull himself together, he stared walking back to Headquarters.

Draco had been lounging around doing nothing all day and had just decided to take a break from his idleness, when he heard an owl tap on the window in front of where he was sitting. Frowning, he rose from his chair and opened it. The small bird stumbled onto the ground, clearly exhausted, but it stuck its leg out nonetheless and on it there was a small note attached. Draco unfolded it, it read:

 _Hermione has been kidnapped. Come to the Burrow as soon as you can. HP_

He flipped it over. Was this a joke? It couldn't be true could it? _HP_ , Harry Potter. Dread filled his every particle. Granger had been kidnapped, _someone had taken her_ , he thought and then he fell to his knees screaming in rage. Draco didn't know how long he'd stayed on the stone floor in the library, but the sky outside had turned dark by the time he came to. Snapping into action he rushed to collect his broom from the dormitory, opened a window and charged through the air. He landed on the field just outside the school grounds, then concentrating hard he thought _the Burrow_ and disapparated.

He landed on the snow covered lawn outside the ugliest house he'd ever seen and was sure this must be the place. Wasn't Lucius always going on about Arthur Weasley living in a shack? Draco charged towards it and slammed open the door when he got there. He fell into a small kitchen and he could see people gathered by the fireplace in the living room in front.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" bellowed a middle-aged man with thinning ginger hair as he caught sight of him. _Arthur Weasley_.

"It's okay, Mr Weasley, he's Hermione's boyfriend" Harry said in a grimace.

"Where is she? What do you know?" Draco demanded in hysteria.

"You need to calm down Malfoy, you're not going to be of any help to us in the state you're in," Harry said flatly.

Draco knew Potter was right, he needed to find his composure and focus. _For fuck's sake_ , he was a Malfoy, he thought forcing his breathing to calm before speaking again.

"You're right. I will, I mean I am. What can I do?" he asked, using all his might to keep his voice levelled, but then he almost fell apart again catching sight of Weasley. The man looked destroyed, with his hands clutching his head and staring blankly ahead with his mouth half opened. Draco felt certain Ron hadn't even notice his presence. Looking around the room, he saw several of the people the Death Eaters had fought against during the war. All the Weasley's children were there. And there was that blond chick who'd competed in the Triwizard's tournament, Draco couldn't remember her name. Luna and Neville was there. And a few other wizards and witches, he didn't know. They all look sombre.

"What do you know about Nightshade?" Harry asked him.

"Only that what has been written in the Prophet," Draco answered.

"I think your dad is one of their members," Harry said and Draco felt sick knowing he was probably right.

"Does your father know about you and Hermione?" Harry asked, looking piercingly at him.

"No", Draco answered.

"Good, that gives us an advantage. How far are you willing to go to save her, Malfoy?" Harry questioned.

"I'd die for her," Draco said unflinching, surprised at his own words though he knew them to be true. There was nothing he wouldn't do to ensure the safety of Granger. She was his entire world now. And if something had happened to her, he cut the thought short. He mustn't think like that now.

"Even better," Harry said, and then "I need you to go to the Manor for Christmas and be _your parent's_ son, do you think you can do that?"

Draco felt his stomach turn, he was going to have to pretend that he'd never changed, that he was the proud son of Lucius Malfoy, the very man who was working for the organization who'd likely kidnapped his girlfriend.

"Yes," he answered Harry, knowing there was no other option.

"Then go," Harry said and Draco gave him a look of determination before disapparating.

He appeared in the great room on the first floor and he had to bite back the bile in his throat seeing the familiar setting and all the memories it held. He heard his mother's quick footsteps running down the stairs and steeling himself he thought _Act_.

"Draco," his mother said in disbelief standing in the vaulted entrance to the great room. She looked thin and he felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he was the cause of her anxiety.

"Mother," he said, forcing a smile.

"You're home," she said weakly, running towards him and embracing him. Having her this close, he realized he'd missed her and he didn't have to pretend when he told her "It's good to see you mother."

"Let me look at you," Narcissa said, clutching his chin "You haven't shaved and what is this you're wearing?". She creased her nose looking at his wrinkled and stained white shirt.

"I haven't heard from you in eight months. I've been so worried. You are staying for Christmas?" she asked sounding manic.

"Yes, mother, I'm staying for Christmas," he answered.

"Well then, we must get word to Lucius that you're here," she said smiling before holding out her wand. Draco watched her cast a spell to break the safety enchantments and protections that were on the Manor and thought it must mean Lucius was far away, otherwise he was certain Narcissa would've used the Floo Network to get hold of her husband.

Hermione stood swaying on the rocks focusing on keeping her balance in the powerful wind, when she heard the woman mutter to herself.

"Finally. About time," and then she grabbed Hermione's arm, boring her nails into it. What was about time? Hermione wondered before feeling herself being led over the rocks in what she figured was the direction of the sea. She could hear the sound of the waves growing louder, and then the steady rock underneath her was replaced by a moving surface. If the woman hadn't been holding onto her so tightly, Hermione felt sure she would've fallen into the water. They walked upwards at an angle and Hermione realized they were entering a boat or ship of some kind. She felt nauseous.

Then she felt herself being pushed, but her arms caught her before she hit the ground, there was pain in her wrist and she could tell she'd fallen onto a wooden floor.

"Get up" a harsh voice demanded and she sat up, panting on the floor. Someone lifted the blindfold and once her eyes had adjusted, she saw a man standing before her, he was tall with long white hair and his face looked as though carved in marble. For a moment she thought it was _him_ and felt relived only to have her hopes squashed when realization finally hit her. It wasn't Draco. _It was Lucius_. And next to him stood the woman who'd brought her from the graveyard. She must be working for him, Hermione thought getting to her feet. They were on what looked like a vast ghost ship and Hermione's eyes wandered over the lines of the ship's deck while its grey sails strained in the wind. Behind Lucius and the woman stood a thick row of black-hooded figures. Death Eaters, Hermione thought, or members of Nightshade. She remembered Harry saying they were one and the same. Well he'd been right about Lucius.

"Lucius," she said once she'd found herself.

"Mudblood," he said contemptuously.

"Bring her to the downstairs!" the grey-haired witch yelled at Malfoy and Hermione immediately felt him grab her arm. She realized she'd been wrong in thinking _she_ was working for _him_.


	15. The ship

Draco counted that there had been hours since his mother broke the enchantments, however, his father still hadn't showed. Narcissa seemed unconcerned by this, busy doting on him; she'd had the house elves cook him his favourite meal; pheasant with roasted potatoes and cranberry jelly. And dinner was almost ready, when she said;

"Now we're only missing your father."

Draco nodded and then he noticed her frowning at him.

"What?" he asked puzzled.

"Oh, I'd wish you'd say 'pardon'," she said impatiently.

"Pardon?" he said in a grimace.

"You just took a shower, why on earth didn't you shave?" Narcissa continued and Draco couldn't help rolling his eyes at his mother. He was astounded at the trivial things she concerned herself with, when there were real issues to be solved. Like the fact that his girlfriend was missing. _Don't_ , he told himself knowing he had to put Hermione's disappearance from his mind in order for Potters plan to work.

"Didn't feel like it," he said, thinking he probably should've shaved. Acting was all about getting into character and the character he was playing, that is to say his former self wouldn't have been caught dead sporting a stubble.

"Well, I wish you would take a bit more care in your appearance, it's so imp," Narcissa started, when she was suddenly interrupted by Lucius emerging in the Great Room. Draco fought to keep his composure watching the tall, blond man, an elder version of himself, take form in front of them. Malfoy senior cast Draco an arrogant look before embracing Narcissa. Then with his arm around his wife's small frame, he cleared his throat.

"Draco, what brings you here," he said dryly.

"Lucius, our son doesn't need to have a reason to visit his _own_ home," Narcissa said indignantly.

"Just a moment Narcissa, darling," Lucius told his wife, gesturing for her to be quiet, and then "I want to hear what the boy has to say".

Here it goes, thought Draco steeling himself for the performance of his lifetime.

"I'm here to apologize, alright! I've been an idiot, leaving the Death Eaters and putting my trust in that traitor _Snape_. You were right all along, father," he said in a sincere voice, supressing the urge to vomit. Lucius looked taken a back, he clearly hadn't expected this.

"There are rumours that you turned spy for the Order of the Phoenix before the Dark Lord's downfall. Are the rumours true, did you in fact betray your master Draco?" the tall man asked menacingly.

"Yes, I regret I did," Draco said bowing his head.

"Then you must be aware what you've done to this family. Your foolish acts have brought shame upon the Malfoy-name. You have single-handedly torn down what took us generations to build," Lucius snarled, ignoring Narcissa's whimpers.

"I am aware of what I've done and I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to make amends for my actions," Draco said in a remorseful voice.

" _Make amends_ ," Lucius sneered, and then "Do you honestly think that there's something you can do right your mistakes? There's nothing you can do, Draco. Nothing!"

Draco was close to reaching his breaking point now, he could feel it; the anger pulsing in his veins, the curses balancing threateningly on the top of his tongue and his fingers closing tight around the wand in his pocket. But he mustn't lose himself. Granger's life depended on him keeping his composure.

It had been two days since Hermione had been brought on the ship. She was sitting on the hard wooden floor below deck and resting on her lap was a young girl. It was early morning and the other prisoners were silent, sitting leaned against the walls of the ship. They were twenty in total, including herself and the girl, _Sadie_ , who was an orphan who'd been about to attend her first year at Hogwarts when she'd been captured by Nightshade. She'd told Hermione that she'd spent months locked up in a room somewhere. Hermione had immediately felt protective of her and now she sat stroking her sandy coloured hair. It was so horrible, she thought, Sadie should be attending lessons at Hogwarts, forming friendships with the other students and finding out about ghosts, hippogriffs and quidditch. Instead she was locked up here, most likely destined to die. Hermione shuddered at the thought as she looked into the girl's innocent face, she had a small button nose covered in freckles and a scar above her lip. The girl reminded her of Harry and she felt her chest ache thinking of him. Hermione knew they must've found out she was missing by now and the likelihood was they were all working hard trying to find her. But would they? Some of the other prisoners had told her they'd overheard the crew members saying this ship, appropriately named Nightshade, was untraceable and that they were heading to a remote, nameless island. Hermione was a pragmatic person and she couldn't see how they'd expect to be found in a place like that.

"Mione," Sadie said, stirring on her lap.

"Yes, sweetie?", Hermione answered, looking down into the girl's round, blue eyes.

"Are we there yet, on the island?" Sadie asked and Hermione resumed stroking her hair.

"No, sweetie. We're not there yet. You can go back to sleep, you've only slept four hours," she answered.

"And we don't want to get there either!" said a man standing in the corner next to them. Hermione recognized him as one of the Ministry workers who'd been abducted on the night of the Christmas dance. She thought his surname might be Davies. He was a plump man with a blond moustache and thick glasses.

"Sorry?" Hermione spoke to him.

"I said, we don't want to end up where they're taking us. It's a death camp, you mark my words," he said through gritted teeth and Hermione hurried to cover Sadie's ears.

"Davies, watch your tongue, the girl," a man interjected and as he came closer Hermione saw it was Nathan Blakely from the Department of Magical Creatures. He'd been the first one to run up to her when Lucius had shoved her below deck with the others.

"The girl should know what she's up against," Davies told him loudly. Hermione ignored him and turned to Nathan who was dressed in the same pinstriped suit he'd been wearing on their meeting in Hogsmeade. Only now it looked scruffy and there was a long gash in its left sleeve.

"Nathan," Hermione addressed him bleakly, and then "is there any food left? Sadie hasn't eaten anything since yesterday at breakfast".

Hermione hadn't eaten anything but an apple since she'd first arrived here, but that was of little concern to her, all she cared about was Sadie's wellbeing.

"No, sorry Hermione. But I reckon they will throw us some food at lunchtime," Nathan said sounding tired, before he sat down next to her putting an arm around her shoulders.

"You're shivering," he said in observation, but she made no sign of having heard him. They were all shivering, she thought, with hunger, fear or from sitting on the damp, cold floor. They were, quite literally, sitting in the same boat.

Two days after his performance Draco noticed Lucius warming towards him. The three of them, himself, Lucius and Narcissa were having dinner in the impressive dining room and Draco listened vaguely to his mother shouting at a house elf called Rag for bringing them cold soup. The scene would have made Hermione livid, he thought, watching the frightened elf. Then he quickly shunned Granger from his mind, turning towards his father.

"You'd be happy to know that my grades have picked up remarkably. I wouldn't be surprised to receive at least five N.E.W.T's this year," he said proudly, drawing himself up. This wasn't a lie, being together with Hermione meant spending a lot of time studying in the library, and having access to her notes didn't hurt either.

"Now, Draco. The exams haven't even started yet. Don't count your galleons before you've got them" Lucious said patronizingly. There was a time when Draco would have felt hurt being dismissed by his father, but now he couldn't care less. However, for the sake of his act, he plastered a look of disappointment on his features.

The Livingroom of the Burrow had been turned into a makeshift office for the Order and the dining room table was teeming with books on the Dark Arts, parchments and old case files which Kingsley had sneaked from the Ministry. Ron and Harry was sitting with their noses buried in books when Luna and Neville joined them.

"Any progress?" Neville asked and Harry looked up from the copy of "Dark Arts Through the Ages" he was reading.

"None," Ron said disappointed.

They'd been working tirelessly for the two days since Hermione had gone missing and it was frustrating work sifting through a century's worth of dark deeds. Harry threw the book haphazardly on the table and sighed.

"Well, Luna and I want to help. What can we do?" Neville asked, sitting down next to Harry, who watched Luna arrange herself on top of a pile of books, dangling her feet from the edge of the table. She was wearing rainbow coloured socks and what looked like a checked apron.

"You could go through the pile of old case files again. Ron and I might've missed something," Harry answered him unenthusiastically.

After a few moments reading in silence, Luna cleared her throat.

"You know what's funny?" she said.

"What?" Harry said in a tired voice, not feeling in the mood for hearing one of Luna's wild conspiracy theories.

"That Nightshade chose the same name as the one of Captain Kristian the Horrific's ship," Luna said simultaneously reading one of the old case files. Harry eyed her over the top of the parchment he was reading.

"What are you on about?" he asked, suddenly interested. After all Luna had been the one to tell him about Helena Ravenclaw's lost diadem that previous year. Still, Harry was sure not to get his hopes up not having forgotten about her views on nargles and crumple-horned snorkacks.

"Well surely you've heard of Captain Kristian the Horrific," she said looking into their incredulous faces. They'd all stopped with what they were doing to listen to Luna.

"According to legend he was previously known as Kristian the Great, King of Denmark. However, he grew tired of ruling the country and feigned his death to escape the burden of the crown. Being a Wizard he'd heard the legend of an untraceable magical ship called Nightshade and he went on a quest to find it," Luna began telling them in an eerie voice and Harry couldn't helped but feel intrigued by her story.

"After years of searching he found it and killing its captain and his crew Kristian commandeered the ship. Then he set out to sail the seas as Wizard Captain Kristian the Horrific" she finished. Harry was beyond himself, could it be that the legend was true and there was such a ship? That would explain why they had been unsuccessful in finding the base of Nightshade's operation. It was a ship.


	16. The captain

Draco was struggling to fall asleep since every time he closed his eyes he had the vision of Hermione's lifeless body resting in a pool of her own blood and the sight sent him into a state of hysteria. He tried focusing his attention back on the present where there had been some progress in his and Lucius relationship in the past few days and he was starting to think his father was beginning to trust him again. The previous morning he'd said that if Draco wanted to make amends he could start with getting engaged in the Malfoy family's dealings with Borgin and their correspondence with the Ministry. Not quite the responsibilities he'd hoped to be given but it was start. Just then images of a smiling, happy Hermione came flashing in his mind. That was how she'd looked when he'd last seen her. It felt like a lifetime ago they'd said their goodbyes at the castle and he remembered her saying:

 _Promise me you won't turn our room into a bachelor pad._

He kicked his cover to the end of his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Draco thought about the room, which she'd so meticulously decorated for Christmas. Thinking about the garlands, the candy canes and the red and green ornaments he remembered tomorrow was Christmas day, Hermione's favourite holiday, and he felt like crying. Where would his girlfriend be spending Christmas? In a deep dark forest somewhere? In a murky dungeon? That was assuming she wasn't already dead, he thought and then unable to stop himself, he started to cry.

Harry had felt his mind racing ever since Luna had told them about the legend of Kristian the Horrific and his ship Nightshade. After telling the other members of the Order, they'd all set out to learn everything there was to know about the old pirate tale and Luna had sent word to her father, who she claimed was an expert on the matter. It turned out she'd been right. Harry was sitting on a chair in the Livingroom of the Burrow with the others and together they listened to Xenophilius Lovegood give a colourful and enthusiastic depiction of the old legend.

"But, Mr Lovegood, what does it mean for the ship to be untraceable?" Harry asked when Xenophilius had finished.

"It means it cannot be tracked," the man answered simply.

"I know what the word mean, but Kristian managed to find the ship somehow, didn't he?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh, yes, but only after years of searching for it," Xenophilius answered.

"But then, that must mean that it _can_ be found," Harry said.

"Aha! Everything can be found Harry, but it's a quest and you know what that means" Xenophilius said, waving his arms enthusiastically.

"No," Harry answered uncertainly.

"A fool is only a fool until his efforts turn into gold. Then he becomes the king, Harry!" Xenophilius exclaimed looking triumphant. He seemed to be under the impression that he'd just handed Harry a great piece of wisdom. However, Harry who thought it had been nothing short of nonsense stared incredulous at him. But then he remembered something, or rather someone. He still hadn't told Malfoy about the ship. But how would he get a hold of him, Harry thought. Why hadn't he set up a system of communications before he'd sent Malfoy back to the Manor? Although, he thought, if Malfoy had his wits about him he'd remember the way in which they'd communicated the last time he'd worked for the Order - by the use of Hermione's ingenious galleons. Reaching into his jean pocket Harry pulled out the small golden coin. Harry felt a pang of grief flipping it over in the palm of his hand, remembering that tomorrow was Christmas day, Hermione's favourite holiday and she'd be spending it alone and miserable somewhere, perhaps on board the Nightshade.

Hermione was asleep, holding Sadie in her arms and resting her head on Nathan's shoulder, however her mind was far away at Hogwarts.

 _"_ _Good morning my angel," Draco said and Hermione stretched out on the bed in the Room of Requirement. Her eyes wandered over the Christmas decorations hanging from the ceiling._

 _"_ _We should have a tree!" she said excitedly, sitting up in bed._

 _"_ _Do we have to?" Draco groaned "Don't you think this room screams Christmas enough already, without the addition of a sodding tree?"_

 _Hermione pouted._

 _"_ _Come on Draco, It's Christmas, it's only the most cheerful holiday of the year! Stop being such a Grinch," she said, crossing her arms over her chest._

 _"_ _Such a what?" he asked looking confused_

 _"_ _A Grinch, you know from 'The Grinch who stole Christmas,'" she said, but then_ _but then remembering it was a muggle tale, she said_ _"Oh, nevermind. Can we just get a tree? Please?"._

 _"_ _You're dangerous, you are," Draco laughed, but then "Alright we can get a tree."_

 _"_ _Great, I'll ask Hagrid if I can cut one from the grounds," she said._

 _"_ _What? Are you serious? You are the most brilliant witch I know. Are you telling me you don't know how to conjure up a tree?" Draco asked incredulous._

 _"_ _Of course I do," Hermione said beaming at him calling her 'brilliant', and then "But it will feel more real this way."_

 _Draco smiled and rustled her hair._

"Get up, get up!" Hermione heard a harsh voice shout and woke with a start and feeling disoriented she looked up at the man shouting. He was broad-shouldered with bushy black eyebrows and he was holding his wand aimed right at her. Hermione realized that he must be one of _them_.

"What do you want her for?" Nathan asked the man angrily, but then Hermione flinched as the the bushy-browed man kicked him hard in the ribs.

"What do you want?" she asked shakily, holding Sadie tight to her chest and looking up at the man.

"I'm under orders to bring you to the Captain," he said in a rather disgruntled voice.

"Okay, I'll go," Hermione said, before turning to Sadie "You be a good and stay close to Nate okay?" The girl looked frightened, but she nodded nonetheless and leapt from Hermione's lap to crouch down next to Nathan. Hermione's eyes stung from the bright light that met her when walking up on deck and she could feel the gaze from the other crewmembers pierce her back as they made their way over to the Captain's chambers. Entering the ornate room, Hermione was surprised to see the silver-eyed woman sitting behind a grand desk, a tarnished map resting on its surface. She wasn't wearing black robes anymore; she now wore a white blouse with lacing down her chest.

"Ah, there you are," the woman spoke looking up at her, and then "Forgive me, I haven't properly introduced myself, have I?"

Hermione gave a small shake of her head.

"I thought so, I'm Captain Camilla Kristensen," she said and Hermione could detect an accent as she spoke her name. Was it Scandinavian?

"Nice to meet you" said Hermione, who didn't know what else to say.

"Well, aren't you polite," Camilla said with a smile that sent chills up Hermione's spine, and then "Have you heard ever heard of me, muggle girl?"

Hermione glanced at the bushy-browed man who now stood in the shadows to her left, then looking back at Camilla she shook her head.

"Well, then I think I will tell you a little tale" Camilla said, "I assume you know of Kristian the Great?"

"Yes, he was the King of Denmark and ruled the country in the seventeen hundred," Hermione answered eagerly and for a second she felt like her old self.

"Very good, Miss Granger. They told me you were clever," Camilla said, adding "For a muggleborn."

Hermione felt her chest fall. For a moment she'd almost forgotten where she was and what she was doing there. But of course, this woman considered her being worth less than nothing. Hermione was once again reduced to her status as muggleborn.

"But I take it you've only heard the muggle version of my Great ancestor's life," Camilla asked her and grabbing a knife with a curved blade from the table she started playing with it. _Tap, tap, tap_ it sounded when it hit the table visible between her outstretched fingers. Hermione watched transfixed as she picked up her pace, certain she would accidentally jam the knife into her own hand. But Camilla didn't seem worried, she was watching Hermione.

"You see the muggle version is lacking, it leaves out what transpired after Kristian's supposed death," Camilla said, still playing with the knife.

" _Supposed_ death?" Hermione asked, unable to restrain herself.

"Don't interrupt me," Camilla said sharply, glaring at Hermione who felt herself shrink, and then "Yes, ignorant girl. His _supposed_ death. Because see, what the muggles didn't know was that Kristian was a wizard stemming from a long line of pureblood witches and wizards. Tired of ruling the country of Denmark he staged his own death and set off to find a magical, untraceable ship. This ship," Camilla said proudly. Hermione gasped and the woman looked pleased at this.

"Yes, it is a thrilling tale isn't it. Anyway, this ship has passed from generation to generation and now it's mine and at my hand, this ship is finally being used for its intended purpose," Camilla said, moving the knife so quickly now that all Hermione could see was a blur. She couldn't help but be intrigued by the story and she held her breath waiting for the woman to continue.

"You see, Kristian had a motto: Gloria ex amore hereditas," she said and she stopped moving the knife pointing it on the inscription on the wooden beam at the ceiling. Hermione read the same words that Camilla had just spoken: _Gloria ex amore hereditas._

"I presume you know latin," Camilla asked, putting down the knife.

"Yes, it means: the love of my heritage is my glory," Hermione said with a note of distaste.

"Very good," Camilla said with a cruel smile.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Hermione asked, feeling nauseous, not having eaten in days had left he weak.

"Because I want you to understand," Camilla said frowning at her, and then "that this is all being done for the greater good."

Hermione felt sure she was going to throw up now. _For the greater good_ , she thought, that had been Grindelwald's excuse too. She felt history repeat itself, had experience taught them nothing? What good could come from dividing people and from discrimination and prejudice? _Nothing_ , Hermione thought, but she felt certain there would be no reasoning with Camilla. The woman seemed just as deranged as Grindelwald and Voldemort had been. The only thing Hermione could hope for was that she'd prove less powerful.


	17. The spy

It was Christmas morning and Draco felt wasted not having slept at all that night. Putting on a blue shirt he caught his own reflection in the floor-length mirror. He thought he looked terrible, his eyes were bloodshot and his face ashen. _I look like a man who lost his one and only_ , he thought sighing deeply. But it wouldn't do. For his act to work he needed to look like the vain, arrogant git he'd once been. He stepped over the dark wooden floor onto the marble floor of his ensuite bathroom and after scrubbing his face and shaving, Draco felt himself presentable. All that was missing was a pair of pants he realized and grabbed the one's he'd wore the day before off the floor. However, pulling them on he felt a burning against his leg and realized at once what it was. _Hermione's galleon!_ He hurried to pull it from his pocket and examining it he discovered its serial number had changed. It read _12251000_ , which he knew to mean a date and time. This very day at ten a clock. If he was right in thinking that meant them meeting at their usual spot, he would have to hurry. He glanced at his wristwatch, it was past nine already. On that note, Draco scurried from the room and down the stairs heading for the fireplace, but then he stopped short in his tracks.

"Merry Christmas, Draco," Lucius said once Draco had entered the Great room. His father was sitting in one of the leather chairs by the fireplace, reading the newspaper. _Dammit to hell_ , he'd forgotten about his parents.

"Merry Christmas, father," Draco answered, panting.

"Where are you running off to so early in the morning?" Lucius asked, putting down his newspaper and eyeing his son closely.

"I'm heading into town to stop by Borgin and Burke's. I plan on letting Borgin know that I wasn't all together pleased with his latest delivery," he lied smoothly, and then "also, I haven't had a chance to purchase my presents for you and mother yet".

"Draco, what is this I hear? Surely, you're not thinking of leaving now?" Narcissa asked when she walked into the Great Room.

"Narcissa, darling, if the boy is eager to work regardless that it's Christmas I think we ought to let him," Lucius said, and then turning to Draco he said "I'm impressed with your morale, son. There might be hope for you yet."

"Fine, but I expect you home before Christmas dinner at three," Narcissa said frowning.

"Of course," Draco promised her before taking a fistful of Floo Powder from the urn on the mantelpiece, stepping into the fireplace and muttering 'Nocturn Alley'.

Dusting ash from his clothes, he stepped out from the fireplace in Borgin in Burke's and met the stare from the old man standing behind the counter.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy," Borgin greeted him with a bow of his head.

"Borgin," said Draco in his most arrogant voice, and then "I thought to let you know that your last delivery to the Manor was not to my satisfaction."

"How come why not?" Borgin asked cautiously.

"The wrapping was sloppy, the paper was torn and anyone could have guessed what the packages contained," Draco said irritably, and then "I can just imagine how the delivery would look in the eyes of that Ministry fool Arthur Weasley."

"I'm terribly sorry sir, it won't happen again, sir," Borgin hastened to apologize.

"I shall think not, Borgin. Well then, now that's out of the way. You wouldn't have anything here that would interest my mother, would you?" he said with a bored glance on the items displayed under the counter.

"Ah, A Christmas present no doubt?" the old man asked eagerly and Draco gave him a stiff nod, and then he said "Cutting it rather close aren't you?"

"Never you mind," Draco said curtly, watching the man lift a tray from under the counter and place it on top of it. The tray held an array of jewellery: gold implanted earrings with emeralds, silver bracelets, rose gold necklaces and ruby earrings.

"How much for that?" Draco said pointing to a dainty charm bracelet in silver.

"Ah, that would be fifty galleons, sir," Borgin said and Draco nodded.

"That's fine, Borgin. And how much for those?" he said, pointing on a pair of cufflinks now.

"Only thirty galleons for them, sir," Borgin said and Draco grunted in response.

"Should I wrap them for you then, sir?" Borgin asked, taking out the silver bracelet together with the cufflinks.

"But of course, Borgin," Draco said impatiently, refraining from glancing at is wristwatch. He knew Borgin was likely to give a recount of his visit to Lucius later and he didn't want the man telling his father that he'd seemed anxious to get somewhere.

"Would that be all then, sir?" Borgin asked when he'd finished wrapping the jewellery.

"That would be all, Merry Christmas to you," Draco said after he'd handed him the money and collected the packages.

"And a Merry Christmas to you, sir," Draco heard Borgin say to his back as he stepped out of the store. Then he chanced a glance at his watch; the dial read five past ten and he hurried down the street leading to Diagon Alley. Reaching Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions he went inside and hastily greeted Madam Malkin before grabbing a couple of dress robes on their hangers. Stepping into the changing room in the far corner of the shop, he threw the robes on the floor and crouched down next to the mirror. There was a small air vent to the left of it and he turned the vent open and whispered:

"Potter?"

"Malfoy," he heard Harry's relieved voice on the other side "What took you so long?"

"Never mind that, what news do you have?" Draco muttered impatiently as he considered the man's voice. Harry didn't sound upset which he took to mean that there was no bad news.

"We think we know where the base of Nightshade's operation is located. And it's possible it's the same location where Hermione is being held," Harry said in a hushed tone and Draco felt a flutter of hope in his chest at his words.

"When are we leaving?" he whispered urgently.

"It's a bit more complicated than that, Draco" Harry said and Draco felt a sense of foreboding hearing Potter call him by his first name.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Their base is a ship. And its untraceable," Harry stated in a low voice, and then "we believe only Nightshade's members knows of its location."

"But then how are we," Draco started, but Harry cut him off.

"This makes _you_ instrumental to our operation. I need you to disclose the location of that ship," Harry said urgently under his breath.

Draco felt crestfallen. He knew being a spy meant putting in time in order for your targets to trust you, but he still couldn't help feeling useless having come up with nothing so far. He felt certain time was running out on Hermione and knew he had to do whatever it took to get the coordinates for that base.

"Draco?" Harry asked.

"I will get back to you once I've got the coordinates," Draco said determinately.

Draco felt resolute returning to the Manor. He'd drawn the outlines of his plan to get Lucius to let him in on Nightshade's operation and he was ready to put his plan into action. He stepped out of the vast fireplace onto the living room floor, dragging soot onto the carpet. He gestured to Rag, who was busy straightening the ornaments on the tree, to clean up the mess.

"There you are!" Narcissa said to Draco, then frowning at her blackened carpet she turned to the house elf "What are you doing over there, clean this up. Now!"

Draco watched the small house grasp a broomstick and scurry to the fireplace.

"Mother, must you yell at the help," Draco said in a bored voice, feeling this small act of kindness brought him closer to Granger.

"Speaking of yelling at the help, I understand you were at Borgin with complaints of last week's delivery," Narcissa said in a perfect segue.

"Yes, the wrapping was below par, mother," Draco said, placing the packages on a table.

"I see," Narcissa said

"Madam, would you like us to serve dinner?" a small house elf who's name Draco didn't know spoke from the doorway leading to the kitchen.

"Yes, that will be fine," His mother said distractedly.

Draco followed his mother into the dining room, where Lucius was already sitting on the chair at the head of the table, tapping his fingers impatiently.

"Sorry for the delay, father," Draco said sitting down at his side.

"Nevermind," Lucius said, and then "So, how was our smarmy old friend?"

"Apologetic," Draco said.

"I should hope so. What was it this time?" Lucius asked as the house elves begun bringing trays of food to the table.

"The wrapping," Draco said as a plate filled to the brim with turkey, brussel sprouts, chestnut stuffing and honey roasted carrots appeared before him. He felt sickened by the abundance of it all, knowing that Granger was likely to be starving.

"There's always something, you'd think he'd take more care in serving his most loyal and prestigious customers," Lucius tutted before taking a sip of mulled wine.

"Well these days I reckon he's busy catering to the needs of Nightshade or whatever they're called," Draco said in a casual voice, watching his father's reaction carefully; he was stone faced but his lip had curled at the mentioning of Nightshade.

"Perhaps," Lucius said, "if that is true we ought to grant Borgin some leeway".

"Why should we?" Draco sneered, and then "what are Nightshade if not just a group of wannabe Death Eaters". Draco could tell he had him now, Lucius flared his nostrils and threw his napkin on top of the table. _Wait for it_ , Draco told himself in an effort to remain silent. Narcissa was shifting in her seat now, clearly uncomfortable with the tense silence.

"Nightshade is imperative in upholding the legacy of our former master, Draco," Lucius said in a threatening voice, and then "clearly, you lack insight on the matter."

Draco scoffed, unconcernedly taking a bite of turkey. He knew he had succeeded in offending his father's pride.

"What concerns me though," Draco said, as if though the thought had just appeared to him "is that they're taking all the glory while the Death Eaters are just standing watching from the side-lines".

"Do you honestly imagine I've been sitting around twiddling my thumbs since the Dark Lord's downfall," Lucius snarled looking rather dangerous.

Draco balanced a piece of carrot on his fork, shooting his father a look of feeble interest.

"Yeah, I was wondering about that. What have you been doing since the war, father?" Draco asked in a jaded voice.

"Well, it might be time for you to know," his father said flattening his hair, and then "since you seem to be labouring under the false assumption that the Death Eaters are standing on the side lines."


	18. The reunion

**Hey guys** _, thought to let you know that I'll be busy with work in the next few days so I won't write/post the next chapter until Saturday._

Hermione was pacing the floor below deck, going over her meeting with Camilla in her mind. She couldn't get over the feeling she was missing a piece of the puzzle. Why had the Captain singled her out in telling her the story of her ancestor? She knew from talking to the other captives that none of them had been brought to see her. So, why her? What angle was she playing for Hermione to be pawn in her game? She thought about her connections to the Order, to Dumbledore and Harry and wondered if it was information the woman sought from her. But the Order was weakened, Dumbledore dead and Harry was still attending Hogwarts. Those were some of the reasons for why Nightshade's operation had proved so successful. The lack of resistance. And brilliant as though she was, Hermione doubted the woman wanted to use her for her skills. Hermione looked around at the sleeping faces of the other captives, her eyes coming to rest on Sadie. The girl was sleeping next to Nathan who had his arm wrapped tightly around her. Hermione's eyes wandered to the man, his face was gaunt and he had a beard now, so unlike the stately man she'd met that day in Hogsmeade. Hermione thought Nightshade had stripped this man of many things; his good looks, his fancy clothes and his title. Yet there were some things they'd never take from him; his bravery, his sense of humour and his kindness. Those remained untouched. And Hermione was grateful that they at least had each other. Then she heard movement from up above, hurried steps and voices. She scurried to one of the small portholes and pressing her face against it she saw something which made her equal parts relived and anxious: _land_.

Draco woke the morning after Christmas feeling nervous. Last night Lucius had revealed that he was in fact working for Nightshade and he'd promised to bring Draco along to their location. However, Draco didn't trust Lucius promises, the man was known for being volatile which meant he could've changed his mind. He forced himself to stay in bed a moment longer, taking a few deep, smooth breaths, knowing it was of great importance that he didn't appear too eager. He needed to play the part of a son joining his father to work - nothing more and nothing less. After getting dressed he went downstairs to have breakfast with his parents.

"Good morning mother, father," Draco said once he'd entered the dining room. Lucius who had a cup of tea in one hand and his newspaper in the other barely took notice of him.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Narcissa asked when he sat down opposite her and Draco thought she looked sullen.

"Yes," Draco answered simply before helping himself to a scone. Buttering it, he once again felt a pang of guilt thinking of Granger. Had she been given any food?

"So, Draco. We're leaving here in exactly thirty minutes and I trust you'll manage to make yourself presentable by then," Lucius said and Draco felt relieved. His father hadn't changed his mind; they were really going.

"Yes, of course," Draco answered him.

"These are important people we're meeting today and the impression you make on them might have a great impact on your future," Lucius continued haughtily.

"I understand, father," said Draco, chewing his scone.

"Well then, I have some things to take care of before our departure," Lucius said to Draco and Narcissa before rising from his chair.

Draco left the table shortly after his father and hurried back to his room, walking straight into the bathroom as he'd got there. He felt clammy and dizzy and had to grip the sink in order to keep steady. Turning on the tap, he considered the possibilities of him being made as a spy. There was of course the possibility of them using legilimancy on him. However, this wouldn't be an issue given that he was a skilled occlumens. Then there was the possibility of them forcing him to drink veritaserum. This would be problematic since he'd only had minor training in resisting truth potion. The most likely prospect was that he would slip up when seeing Hermione. Would he be able to keep his composure if she was starved? Beaten? Bleeding?

Just thinking about it, rage took hold of him and he slammed his fist into the mirror in front of him. The glass cracked and looking down he noticed his knuckles bleeding. Smashing his mirror probably hadn't been the wisest decision, but it had nevertheless calmed him. He dripped some dittany on his knuckles before scrubbing his face, shaving and combing his hair. Then he returned downstairs to meet his father in the Great room. Lucius was standing in the middle of the room, dressed in his best robes and clutching two broomsticks.

"Aren't we going to apparate?" Draco asked puzzled.

"At first, then there's, never mind you'll see when we get there," Lucius said, handing him a broom and then holding out his arm for Draco to take. When grabbing it he immediately felt himself being squeezed through what felt like a very narrow pipe before they staggered onto rocks next to the seaside. Draco could barely hear his father through the sound of the thundering waves, but he could make out the words "not there yet". Draco who had let go off his father's arm hurried to grab hold of it again. Then he experienced the same uncomfortable feeling as he had a moment ago when they were thrown through time and space once again. This time they ended up on a small islet in the middle of the roaring sea and there was barely enough room on it for them both to stand.

Lucius gestured for him to mount his broom and they took off from the ground. The wind painfully whipped Draco's face and his fingers felt freezing. He glanced enviously on the dragon hide gloves his father was wearing, thinking that the man could've warned him it would be a cold journey. After hours of flying over open waters, Draco could see land ahead in the form of a small island. Draco saw his father dropping height and he followed suit. He made sure to memorize as much he could about how they'd got there; they had taken off from the east coast and flown north for three hours. They landed on the ground in front of a large dilapidated white building, which reminded Draco of an asylum.

"Braddock, "Draco, who was rubbing his cold hands, heard Lucius say in a loud voice and looking up he saw a man walking towards them. He had a broad face, squinty eyes and skin that looked like it had been tested by the elements.

"Lucius," the man greeted his father "I wasn't informed you were coming in today."

"It was a last minute decision," Lucius answered shaking the man's hand, "this is my son, Draco."

"Draco, pleased to meet you. Welcome to Isle of Armour. I'm Craig Braddock, the foreman overseeing the site," the man said. Draco gave him a courteous nod.

"Well, I have fifteen minutes to spare so why don't I give you a tour of what we've accomplished, "Braddock said glancing at his wristwatch. Lucius murmured in agreement and the three of them went through a large wrought iron gate leading from the building. Draco realized they were on the highest point of the island, a kind of plateau, overlooking the rest of it and his eyes wandered over its barren landscape and cliffs. They walked down the steep steps towards what looked like a small harbour and as they came closer, he saw a magnificent ship resting in the dock.

Hermione felt a thug in her stomach as the ship came to an abrupt halt and she glanced nervously at Nathan and Sadie by her side. None of the prisoners spoke, they all stood staring at the door leading to the deck. Through the porthole she could see the anchor chain and from that she deduced that this was their last stop. Then the door opened and the bushy-browed man appeared in the doorway with his wand pointed at them.

"Everybody out now!", he shouted.

The prisoners looked reluctant to follow the man's order, but not daring to defy him they ambled towards the door. Reaching the deck, they squinted in the sharp daylight and the bushy-browed man pointed to a broad footbridge leading to the shore. The prisoners crossed it two by two. Hermione walked over it clutching Sadie's hand tightly and stepping onto the solid bridge she felt wobbly. _Sea legs_ , she thought.

"Emmet!", Hermione heard a woman cry and she watched her run and fling herself into the arms of a man in the crowd before them. The group of people looked shabby and freezing. She realized they must be prisoners as well and her eyes wandered over their faces. She recognized Mary Cattermole. The woman looked worn and she had a shawl wrapped around her thin shoulders. Hermione gave her a nod of recognition and watched her smile weakly in return.

"You lot wait here for the Foreman," the bushy- browed man grunted to the boat prisoners before he stalked off in direction of what Hermione gathered to be an impromptu pub. She squinted at the small sign hung outside it; "The liquor hut" it read in untidy letters. _That's_ i _maginative_ , she thought sarcastically. But then her eyes landed on a small group of people standing at the far end of the bridge. She recognized Lucius talking to a leather faced man, and next to them stood a younger man, pale with magnificent features. Hermione gasped. It couldn't be. Surely, sleep deprivation and starvation had caused her to hallucinate. _It couldn't be him_.

Draco felt sick hearing Braddock go on about how Nightshade was turning the island into a high security prison to hold muggle born witches and wizards.

"Azkaban alone will not hold the quantity of filth we're dealing with," the man said unflinching and Draco felt anger simmer in him. He forced himself to look away from Braddock and his eyes wandered instead over the mass of prisoners who stood gathered on the bridge. Then suddenly he felt his knees buckle as he saw her face in the crowd. She was thinner and her face was stained with bruises, but it was definitely her. _Hermione_. She stood swaying on the spot, staring at him with her mouth slightly opened, and for a second he felt himself losing it as anguish and rage simpering through every fragment of his being. He wanted to grab her and get her as far away from this wretched place as possible. But he couldn't do that. _Not yet._

"Lucius, I'm afraid I have some things to take care of," Braddock said, and then "but I trust you'll want a word with the Captain."

"Certainly," Lucius answered.

Draco who had pulled his eyes from Hermione watched Braddock walk to the end of the crowd to call their attention. But he was too far for Draco to be able to hear what he was telling them.

"Draco, I need you to stay her while I go talk to the Captain. Don't make any trouble while I'm gone", Lucius told him in a patronizing voice.

"I won't father," Draco said with feigned annoyance.

Draco held his breath watching Lucius make his way down the bridge and step on board the grand ship. What the hell was he supposed to do now, he asked himself and his eyes flickered to the crowd. Hermione had her back towards him now, clearly listening closely to Braddock talking in front. He waited until the man had finished giving instructions before walking slowly towards the crowd.

"Granger," he sneered and after watching her spin around he said "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Hermione appeared to be struggling to understand what he was doing there and why he was talking to her as if the last couple of months had never taken place. He watched her disbelieving face and holding her gaze he gave her a faint nod. There was a moment, but then he watched her expression change to comprehension. He hadn't heard her cast the spell, but he felt it pierce his mind. He didn't resist it, but allowed her to see images of Harry talking rapidly to him, his own fist smashing his bathroom mirror and him crying in his bed. Then it stopped and Hermione staggered backwards.

"You disgust me, Malfoy", she said in a contemptuous voice.

Draco smiled, but then he caught sight of the man standing behind her, recognizing him as the Ministry worker Hermione had met in Hogsmeade. Glaring at Draco, the man walked up to Hermione and put his arm protectively around her. Draco narrowed his eyes and felt a sting of jealousy looking at them. At the same time, he felt grateful that Hermione had someone to look after her, now that he himself was unable to.


	19. The island

**So, I guess sleep is overrated** , _here you are my lovelies, two new chapters. Enjoy!_

Harry and the others worked frantically to retrieve every scrap of information there was on Nightshade and its potential members. They had it down to a list of names written on the wall next to the table at the Burrow. However, Harry felt there was a glaring blank spot on the mind map that they'd drawn up. They still didn't know who the Captain of the ship was and how he'd managed to claim a ship that was supposed to be untraceable. Harry looked up briefly from his notes to see what the others were doing; Ron was on the floor staring into space, Neville was sitting opposite him reading a book on Herbology while Luna laid on the bench holding a book outstretched above her.

"You know it's funny with the name Nightshade," Neville spoke, and then "at first I thought it was referring to the plant, you know, Deadly Nightshade from the Solanaceae family".

"Hmm," Harry said, only partly listening to what Neville was saying as he sifted through his notes from the previous day.

"It's an interesting plant, actually, with several magical qualities, like serving as an intermediate vessel between a Wizard and an inanimate object, and then of course there is the belief that if treated right the plant can live forever," Neville drawled on, but Harry wasn't paying attention, he was still wondering about the Captain of the ship. Neville must have noticed because he fell silent.

"Hey, Harry what if?" said Ron staring open-mouthed at Harry's invisibility cloak which laid in a pile on the floor next to them.

"What?" Harry asked impatiently when Ron gave no indication of finishing his sentence.

"What if the ship is a hand-me down?" Ron said looking up at Harry.

"Please elaborate, Ron", Harry sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I mean, it belonged to this Kristian fellow at one point. But that was ages ago so he's likely to be dead, isn't he?" Ron said and Harry thought he saw what he was going with this.

"So, you're saying he could have passed it on to his children. Just like Ignotus Peverell did my cloak," Harry said frowning, and then "Ron, that's brilliant!"

"Well, I have my moments," he said, his earns turning scarlet.

Harry, who was already standing rushed to the kitchen to tell the others. Kingsley looked impressed at Harry when he'd finished.

"I can't believe you just thought of that" Kingsley said.

"I didn't. It was Ron," Harry said smiling now.

"Really, do you know if he plans on becoming an Auror?" Kingsley asked.

"What? No, I don't know. But never mind that now, let's get to it!" Harry said excitedly.

A few hours later and through the magic of research, they'd managed to find the only living relative of King Kristian; her name was Camilla Kristensen and the records showed she was on the run from the law. She stood accused of having murdered her brother Axel in cold blood.

"Charming woman from the looks of it," Ron said sarcastically with his nose buried in her case file which had been sent to them from the Scandinavian Ministry of Magic.

Harry couldn't help thinking that if this woman was capable of murdering her own brother, she probably wouldn't have a problem killing off an unknown muggle born witch. But he mustn't think like that now. Not when they were this close. He closed his fingers around the gold galleon in his pocket, hoping that Draco would hurry to get back to him with some answers.

"Come on, Hermione. We better do as the foreman said and get to work," Nathan said to Hermione while still glaring at Draco, who's eyes were still fixed on the witch standing before him. _His witch_. Hermione nodded and together with Nathan and a young girl Draco didn't know she left. The pain he felt watching her walk away was immense and he longed to grab her, hold her and kiss her. Still he stood fixed to the spot, knowing that it was essential he didn't brake character. He had to continue pretending that he loathed her and was happy to see her trapped on this godforsaken island.

"Draco there you are, the Captain has informed me I'm needed in London, so we'll make our departure," Lucius told him. Draco hadn't even noticed the man coming up to him, too preoccupied staring at the spot where Hermione had stood. But now he snapped back to reality. They couldn't leave now! He couldn't leave Granger not knowing what would happen to her and it took all his restraint not to tell his father this.

"Yes, father," he said, forcing his voice not to tremble with the rage he experienced. They walked back to the big white building outside which they'd left their brooms and with one last look at the bridge, Draco took off from the ground.

Hermione was stunned. It had really been him, talking to her on the bridge. From him revealing his mind to her she'd found out that he was working as a spy for the Order in order to retrieve information on her whereabouts. She wondered what would happen when the Order found out about the ship and the island. Would they come for them? She looked at Sadie. The girl had just changed into the beige overalls they were forced to wear and Hermione worried whether she could cope with the workload. The foreman called Braddock had given them clear instructions telling them that they'd be working long days completing Nightshade's plans to build a high security prison on the island. She knew it would be hard work, nearly impossible to do unless you were a trained witch or wizard. Sadie hadn't had a single year of training, but Hermione was determined to help her and pick up her slack. She felt as though the girl had read her mind when she spoke.

"Mione, I don't understand. How am I supposed to do this? I don't know any spells", Sadie said looking crestfallen.

"Nate and I will teach you. Bright girl like you, I'm sure you'll pick it up. Don't worry, sweetie," she said in a would be cheery voice. They'd been given special issue wands, which had been stripped of most of their powers. The wands were sufficient for building but useless for defence against the Dark Arts. No doubt to prevent an uprising, Hermione thought. But she'd cast a couple of simple spells with hers to test it and it seemed easy enough to manoeuvre. When they left the changing rooms to join up with the other prisoners on the site, Nathan came up to them.

"Can you believe this? Davies was right," Nathan said angrily.

"Well not quite," Hermione said, putting a hand on his arm.

"Look around you Hermione, the people here are working themselves to the grave!" He exclaimed.

"Nate," said Hermione cautiously, nodding towards Sadie.

"Sorry," he muttered when he realized his mistake, then he turned to the girl "How are you doing kid?"

"I'm scared," she said quietly.

"I know, but it'll be okay. Hermione and I will look after you," Nathan said stroking her cheek.

Hermione looked around the big working site. There must be hundreds of able witches and wizards working tirelessly building the prison's foundation. They all looked gaunt and exhausted, waving their wands in order to make blocks of stone move. She spotted Mary Cattermole moving a boulder with her bare hands, no doubt lacking the mental strength it took to compel it to motion using magic.

"You there, get to work!" a sturdy red haired man yelled at them. And they hurried to work on a pile of rocks on their left.

Draco felt wasted from his experiences on the island when he returned to the Manor, however he felt eager to get word to Potter. Stepping out from the fireplace he heard his mother's hurried footstep.

"Draco, what happened? You look terrible! Where's your father?" Narcissa said urgently when she caught sight of him. She hurried to support him and help him over to the sofa.

"I'm fine, mother," Draco said, and then "It was a long journey that's all. Father had some business in London to take care of."

"Are you sure you're alright?" His mother said, sounding a bit calmer, and then she shouted "Rag!"

Draco watched the small house elf come scurrying from the kitchen.

"You called, Madam" he said.

"Bring us some tea. Immediately!" Narcissa ordered him sharply.

"Certainly, Madam," the elf answered before disappearing out the door.

Draco looked at his mother, who was oblivious to the internal struggle he experienced. On the one hand he had to let Harry know where Granger was being kept. On the other, he had to act as if though nothing had happened.

"Stop fussing, mother. I told you I'm fine," he said in an attempt at mild annoyance.

"You look pale as a sheet, you have to eat something," his mother snapped when the house elves entered the room carrying cups, saucers, a silver teapot and an enormous tiered plate holding an array of cookies and scones. They placed the items on the coffee table and Draco reluctantly reached for a scone. All hunger had left him seeing Hermione's thin, bruised face but for the sake of his act he buttered the scone and spread some marmalade on it before taking a bite. He saw his mother relax at this.

"See, I'm eating, mother. Happy now?" he asked sarcastically.

"Quite," Narcissa answered pouring herself a cup of tea and Draco knew at once how he would escape his mother's claws.

"Actually mother, I think you're right. I'm not feeling quite right. Perhaps I should have a lie down," he said, finishing his scone and washing it down with a cup of tea.

"Yes, I think you should," Narcissa agreed.

Back in his room, Draco let go of all pretence and after casting a muffliato he clutched his head and screamed out in rage. He felt murderous and craved to rip his father to shreds, thinking about how Lucius had looked at the prisoners in disgust. Like they weren't human beings being forced to work themselves to death fulfilling Nightshade's sick plans but something nasty on the sole of his shoe. Draco felt he could've easily slipped into insanity, if it hadn't been for the information he had to bring Potter. He pulled Hermione's galleon from his pocket and tapped it with his wand, watching the numbers change to 27121000. He couldn't leave tonight, knowing it would seem suspicious to his parents. So he waited sitting with his fingers clutched to his head and feigned sleep when his mother called him for dinner.

Hermione felt wasted when she, Sadie and Nathan went to the barracks after the hard day's work. She was starved to the point where she could no longer feel hunger, but knew she had to eat too manage the workload. They sat down at one of the long tables in the barrack called 'the food court'. Hermione felt the name misleading, she had been to several food courts in her life and they were nothing like this. Instead of being offered a selection of dishes from international kitchens, they were given a scoop of lumpy mashed potatoes and a glass of water. But after her first bite, she felt her hunger returning and she finished the plate within seconds. She looked up, about to ask for a second helping, when she saw the man sitting in front of her shaking his head gravely. It was clear to Hermione that he'd realized what she'd been about to do and warned her against it. Hermione gave him a grateful nod, ignoring the ache in her stomach.

"I heard from the others that men and women stay together in the sleeping barracks, so you two are staying with me," Nathan spoke from her left and she turned towards him.

"Are you sure, I mean I'm sure we'll manage," Hermione said tentatively, she felt enough of a burden already.

"It wasn't a question Hermione, I'm not letting you out of my sight," Nathan said determinedly and Hermione nodded in agreement. Then she saw Sadie hadn't finished her plate.

"Why aren't you eating?" she asked frowning.

"I don't feel well," Sadie said.

"I don't care if you don't feel well. You have to eat, got it?" Hermione said rather sharply, feeling that she had new appreciation for mothers. The worry you experienced looking after a child was indescribable. After dinner they went to one of the barracks, it had a letter M on it and Hermione's mind spun back to Malfoy. She wondered what he was doing now, was he still on the island or had he gone back to the mainland? How long would it take before they were rescued? She felt certain that she, Sadie and Nathan would last a couple of months before being in mortal peril, but some of the other prisoners didn't look like they would be as lucky.


	20. The stories

_Ring, ring, ring_ , it sounded from the speakers and Hermione woke with a start. She'd been sleeping wrapped around Sadie and her eyes met the girls scared expression.

"It's okay, it's just the alarm, "Hermione said reassuringly. Then she watched Nathan rub his eyes and sit up on his cot. The people around them scrambled out of bed to get to the 'food court'.

"Do you know how much time we have before work starts?" Nathan asked her.

"I remember Braddock saying it was fifteen minutes," Hermione answered, sitting up in bed.

"Better get to breakfast then," Nathan said and Hermione thought of how adaptable human beings were. Here they were in an unfamiliar, dreadful place and they were already settling into the routines of it all.

"Yeah," she answered and together they walked to the food court. Hermione sat down at the table and stared down into her bowl of grey porridge, when she suddenly thought of something.

"Sadie, why did they abduct you? I mean you're an orphan, how could they know you were a muggle born?" she asked looking from the tragic porridge to the girl.

"They didn't take me because I was a muggle born," Sadie said, stirring her spoon in the greyish goo in her bowl, and then "I think I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What do you mean?" asked Nathan, who'd miraculously already finished his bowl.

"I was at the Leaky Cauldron and had just finished my shopping for Hogwarts," she started telling them, and then she continued "and then I saw a woman, the Captain, standing in the corner talking to a plant she had in a small chest."

"What?" said Hermione in bewilderment. Camilla had been talking to a plant that she kept in a chest, and this was a big enough secret for her to kidnap Sadie. But how come? No doubt it had been a strange thing to do, but for her to abduct a little girl in order to keep it silent. Surely, there had to be more to it than that.

"That's what happened," she answered simply.

"I'd like to see that ship destroyed with her in it," Nathan said through gritted teeth.

"Can't be done," spoke the same man who'd shook his head at Hermione the day before, and then,

"The ship is not only untraceable. It's indestructible."

"How do you know?" Hermione hastened to ask him.

"Months before you lot got here, a couple of the prisoners managed to sneak some explosives from the site and placed it on the bridge next to the ship. It exploded but the ship remained intact. It took us weeks to rebuild the bridge mind you," the man muttered.

"What happened to them?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, them. The Captain killed them on the spot," the man said, clearly jaded from being here too long. Hermione frowned, taking in what she'd just heard; an indestructible, untraceable ship and a plant in a box. _What did it all mean?_

Draco was still sitting on the edge of his bed when his alarm went off that following morning. He hadn't slept a wink and he probably looked like a mad man but he couldn't care less. All he could think of was getting the information to Potter. His watch told him it was nine and he got from the bed and walked to the bathroom to take a shower. Feeling the water pour over him, he closed his eyes and pictured Hermione standing before him in the shower. He had her every curve and angle memorized and he sighed thinking about the softness of her skin, the arch of her back and her perfectly rounded breast. _Soon_ , he told himself, she would be back in his arms. After the shower he got dressed and went downstairs to his parents.

"Draco," his mother gasped, when he entered the dining room "are you ill?"

"No, I feel better, thanks," he said, well aware that his appearance said otherwise. Stepping out from the shower he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The shadows beneath his eyes were black and his eyes were bloodshot.

"I just wanted to tell you I'll be leaving soon. I saw something at Borgin's that I think could be beneficial for our operation," Draco said addressing his father, who was sitting at the end of the table eying him over the top of his newspaper. It wasn't a complete lie. There had been something at Borgin and Bourke's which had peaked his interest. The old vanishing cabinet that he'd used to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts two years earlier had stood intact in the corner of the shop.

"Really," he said, raising his eyebrow, and then "well, then go."

"Lucius! Can't you see the he's overworked?", Narcissa said and then turning to Draco "You need to rest."

"Narcissa, darling. The boy wanted to make amends and there you are," Lucius said, straightening his newspaper. Draco shot his mother an apologetic look before leaving them to go to the Great room. He grabbed a fistful of Floo powder and stepping into the fireplace he demanded "Nocturn alley".

The scene felt too familiar, he thought when he stepped out from the fireplace at Borgin and Bourke's. He didn't bother to dust the ash of his trousers this time, but went straight to the counter.

"Borgin, "he said, not troubling himself with the usual platitudes.

"Mr Malfoy, sir," Borgin said looking cautious.

"Could you have that cabinet delivered to the Manor by this afternoon? He asked pointing to the vanishing cabinet.

"Yes, certainly," The old man answered, and then "Do you wish to settle the payment now?"

"Later, Borgin. Later," he said irritably.

"As you wish," Borgin said eyeing him. Draco realized since he lacked his usual air he'd had to work extra hard to convince the man.

"Whatever, Borgin. Just get it done," he said haughtily, drawing himself up to his full height, and then "It's for Nightshade." That seemed to convince the old man of the validity of his visit for he hurried over to the cabinet to examine it.

"Good day Borgin," Draco said exiting the shop, not awaiting the old man's answer. The street was bustling with people but Draco pressed on and managed to get to Madam Malkin's on time.

"Good morning," he greeted the whitehaired witch behind the counter before he grasped a pair of trousers and went to the changing room. Well inside, he hurried to turn the vent.

"Potter?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm here. What have you found out?" he heard Harry whisper eagerly.

"I was there Potter. I saw the ship. But they're on an island," he answered.

"An island. Where?" Harry asked.

"It's called the Island of Armour. I don't have the coordinates but it's three hours north from the east coast outside London," Draco said in a low voice.

"Got it. How many are there?" Harry wondered.

"Around one hundred and fifty prisoners and fifty or so Nightshade members, "Draco told him.

There was a moment but then Harry spoke again.

"And Hermione?" he asked.

Draco closed his eyes, steeling himself for Potters reaction to what was next.

"I saw her, and she's a bit beat up but otherwise unscathed", he said and he could practically feel Harry's relief on the other side of the wall.

"I'm going back to see her tonight," he said. He knew it was reckless but it couldn't be helped. He had to see her again.

"Are you insane? That will jeopardize the whole mission," Harry hissed, and then "You can't do it Draco."

"I'm sorry, but I have to. She's my girlfriend!" he spoke a little too loud.

"And she's my best friend but we've got other lives to consider here," Harry whispered angrily.

Draco ignored him.

"Whatever Potter, you're not my boss. Now it's your turn: do you have any information for me?" he asked

"Yes, we know who's the Captain of Nightshade, her name is Camilla Kristensen and she's no lightweight", Harry said and then "But Draco you can't go there again."

"I'm losing my mind here, Potter "Draco said.

"Fine, but if you're caught. I'll kill you myself," Harry said darkly and Draco sniggered.

A few hours later, Draco was pacing the length of his room. Dinner had been difficult because he could feel his composure cracking now. He had a hard time keeping up the act of the remorseful son now that he knew where Hermione was and that he'd see her again within a matter of hours. His parents were already asleep but he knew the importance of having margins. Draco felt manic, not having slept in twenty-four hours and barely eaten since Christmas dinner. Then he glanced at his watch; the dial read midnight and he grasped his broom, closed his eyes and disapparated.

Opening his eyes, he recognized the rocks and the sounds of the thundering waves and thought he couldn't be far from the spot where he and Lucius had stood the day before. Now comes the tricky part, he thought, focusing hard on picturing the small islet in the midst of the roaring sea. Then he disapparated anew and lo and behold, he ended up at the exact scrap of land where he'd been the day before. Relived, he mounted his broom and took off for the Island of Armour.

He landed next to the barracks. They were sixteen in total and he decided to go through them chronologically. "Lumos," he said making his way through the junipers to the first barrack. After checking barracks A through L he was starting to feel desperate. But nonetheless he entered the barrack labelled M, and there he saw her. She was sleeping next to Blakely and in between them laid the little girl.

"Granger", he hissed once he'd come closer. He watched her stir in her sleep before she opened her eyes.

"Draco," she asked, staring at him in bewilderment. He gestured for her to follow him outside and watched as she carefully moved Sadie's arm from her before standing up. Walking out from the barracks he wrapped his arm around her waist and felt alive for the first time in weeks. Once outside there was nothing holding him back and he crashed into her, kissing her with such force that she toppled to the cold ground and he laid down on top of her.

"It is you. It's really you," Hermione panted when they broke apart.

"I missed you so much," Draco said roughly, unable to take his eyes off her beautiful face; the pointed chin, full lips, high cheekbones and bright almond-shaped eyes.

"I missed you too. But what are you doing here?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"I shouldn't be here really. Potter's livid. But I had to see you," Draco said and then he kissed her again. He felt a thug below his navel and with a groan he broke from the kiss, knowing there was no time for what his body craved.

"Harry!" she exclaimed.

"I'm Draco," he said unamused.

"I know that," she said impatiently, and then "I have information for him. You saw that little girl, Sadie?"

"Yeah", Draco said frowning.

"She saw the Captain; her name is Camilla Kristensen talking to a plant that she carried in a chest. This was at the Leaky Cauldron. And also the ship, Nightshade is untraceable and indestructible," Hermione said, talking fast. Draco quickly memorized the information before he resumed kissing her. They only had about fifteen minutes before he had to leave and Draco realized there was something he had to tell her and he pulled away from her, looking into her eyes.

"I love you, Granger," he said sincerely. It was the first time he'd told her, even though he'd known the words to be true for a while now. He watched Hermione's stunned expression transform into a smile.

"I love you too," she answered and he felt his insides soar. Then he noticed her lips were turning blue and kissed them for the hundredth time in an effort to warm them. However, he thought they better get inside, he didn't want Granger to catch a cold and he needed to get back before his parents woke up.


	21. The rescue

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters of the book. They are the property of J.K Rowling, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only / Here you are my lovelies, an actionpacked new chapter. Enjoy!_

The morning after returning to the Manor Draco had told his parents that he had to get back to Hogwarts with the excuse that the term was about to start and he needed to study. However, it wasn't school he headed to when he disapparated from the Great room. It was the Burrow. Swaying on the snowy lawn outside the rickety house, he felt dizzy. He hadn't slept more than four hours in the last three nights and he was exhausted. But seeing Hermione had charged him with determination and there was nothing stopping him from getting her from that wretched island.

"Malfoy," said Harry who'd stepped from the house and came walking towards him across the lawn.

"Potter," Draco said steadying himself.

"How did it go? What happened?" Harry demanded frowning at him. Draco thought it seemed he wasn't the only one deprived of sleep. Harry was pale, his eyes were bloodshot and he seemed anxious.

"I wasn't caught if that's what you're asking," Draco said, rubbing his cold hands, and then "Are we going inside or what?"

"Whatever, did you manage to retrieve more information?" Harry asked as they walked towards the house.

"Granger told me some things, strange things," he answered stepping over threshold into the warm kitchen.

"What things?" Harry asked when they'd sat down at the table.

Draco told Harry what Hermione had told him about the Captain conversing with a plant at the Leaky Cauldron and the ship being indestructible.

"A plant?" Harry asked incredulous when Draco had finished.

"Told you it was strange," he said.

"Neville was talking about a plant the other day, I wonder, "Harry started, and then he called to Neville, who came ambling into the kitchen soon afterwards.

"What is it, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Malfoy found out the Captain of Nightshade was talking to a plant in a chest or box of some kind. And I remember you talking about something yesterday," Harry said, talking fast.

"Deadly Nightshade," Neville muttered, staring out the window, and then "that makes sense. As I told you, the plant has the power to work as a form of intermediator between a wizard, or witch, and an inanimate object – like the ship!"

"Okay, but what does that mean?" Draco interjected.

"It means. That whoever has the plant controls the ship and if you destroy the plant," Neville started.

"You destroy the ship," Harry and Draco finished his sentence in unison. They had their answer at last.

"That's it then. We have to steal the plant and destroy the ship," Draco said.

"Not quite," Harry disagreed, "we're going to steal the plant and commandeer the ship."

There was a pause and then Harry swivelled in his seat.

"Kinsley, are you hearing this?" he yelled and Draco watched the stately Auror enter the kitchen.

"Yes, and I agree with you. We need the ship to carry the prisoners from the island, since its reach is too far for apparition. However, we need to move fast. People have started asking questions," Kingsley said.

"I think we should do it tonight," Draco said resolutely, and then, "the prisoners are unarmed though. And they're going to need the means to defend themselves if we run into trouble".

"Good point. I'll ask Ollivander for every wand he can spare," Kingsley said.

They rushed to work out the details of the rescue mission and after receiving an owl carrying a bag of nearly a hundred wands from Ollivander they were ready to put their plan into action. But night had fallen before Harry, Ron, Neville, Luna, Kingsley, Dawlish and himself set off for the island.

Draco brought them by side-along apparition to the east seaside outside London and everything went smooth until they reached the small islet in the midst of the roaring sea. It was too miniscule for them all to fit on which resulted in Neville, Luna and Ron ending up in the icy water. Draco watched them scramble to get on their brooms, however both Neville and Luna seemed to have trouble manoeuvring their broomsticks. Draco glanced at his watch, it was nearly eleven and at this speed they wouldn't reach the island until early the following morning.

"Can you hurry up!" he shouted to Neville and Luna, who'd finally managed to mount their brooms and keep them fairly steady, although their pace left much to be desired. They charged through the chilly air and the wind whizzed around their ears, but at least Draco had remembered to tell them all to wear gloves. The journey felt twice as long as it had the previous night and Draco sighed in relief when the small island finally came into view beneath them. Soon he would see her again, he thought as they landed in the midst of the junipers next to the barracks.

Casting his broom to the side, he charged into the barrack labelled 'M" stopping in his tracks when he saw Granger. She was sleeping on Blakely's shoulder with the man's hand resting on her stomach. Draco felt his vision momentarily obscured with hatred for Hermione's new _friend_ , but then he quickly found himself and sitting down on her bed he shook her awake.

"Draco, what are you," she started but he cut her off.

"We're here to rescue you," Draco said determinately, disregarding the part of him who wanted to abandon the plan and just crawl into bed with her.

"What's going on?" Blakely asked, and Draco felt tempted to exclude him from the rescue altogether and leave him to rot on the island.

"Why don't you stop asking stupid questions and start handing these out," he said, tossing him the bag filled with Ollivander's wands.

"But I don't understand, you're on _their_ side," the man asked in bewilderment, catching the bag with one hand.

"No, I'm not. Also, I'd appreciate it if you'd take your hands off my girlfriend," Draco said glaring at Blakely's other hand still resting on Hermione's stomach. The man glanced at Hermione.

"It's true," Hermione spoke before she hurried from the bed pulling a wand from the bag.

"Mione, is it morning?" asked the little girl who'd slept next to Granger.

"No, but I have to go do something. You stay close to Nate, okay?" Hermione told her before she left with Draco and making their way out of the barrack he glanced shiftily at Hermione.

"You two seem chummy," he said through gritted teeth.

"Really, Draco. Is this the time?" Hermione asked irritably.

"Fine, but we're having this conversation," he said leading her out the door.

The others were waiting for them outside and Hermione rushed towards them.

"I missed you so much!" she whispered, embracing Weasley.

"You have no idea how worried I've been," Ron said as they broke apart and Draco felt himself growing impatient and tapping his foot on the snowy ground he watched Hermione hug Harry next.

"Are we here for a rescue operation or a reunion party?" he asked sharply.

"Right, what's the plan?" Hermione asked eagerly.

Hermione listened to Harry run through the basics of the plan and she felt her heart sink. If she'd understood him correctly, they not only had to sneak aboard the Nightshade, but also find and steal the chest holding the Deadly Nightshade from Camilla – who was possible the most vicious witch Hermione had ever met. However, it was a close race between her, Bellatrix and Umbridge, she thought.

"So what do you want me to do?" she asked Harry.

"Nothing, I want you to stay here with the other prisoners," he answered her.

"Do you seriously expect me to sit here and do nothing while you go and steal the chest? She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, that's exactly what we expect you to do," Draco interjected.

"I won't do it. I'm going with you," she said, glaring at Draco.

"It's not negotiable, I didn't go through all this trouble for you to get yourself killed at the finish line" He hissed at her and Harry nodded. Hermione felt the anger flare inside her.

"All the trouble you've gone through," she said, threateningly narrowing her eyes at them, and then "while I've been doing what exactly? Vacationing on this charming island?"

"We know that you've been through hell, Hermione and all the more reason for you to," Harry started.

"And all the more reason for me to be the one stealing the chest. Think about it, Harry. I know my way around the ship, I've seen things you haven't and I've met the Captain," she said with a note of finality and she could tell from Harry's expression that she'd argued a good case.

"Fine," Harry said defeated.

"Potter, you can't be serious! Look at her, she's starved and weak. This is insane!" Draco hissed to Harry, gesturing towards Hermione.

"Look I don't know the right answer here, but I do know there's no time to argue. We need to get going. Draco - you, Neville, Dawlish and Luna stay here and look after the prisoners. While me, Hermione, Ron and Kingsley will board the ship and once the coast is clear we'll send up green sparks. That's the signal for you to bring the prisoners to the ship. Got it?" Harry said, talking fast. Draco looked like he was about to argue but then he nodded.

"Got it," he said through gritted teeth and then he turned to her "If something happens to you,"

"It won't. I've done this kind of thing before, remember?" Hermione reassured him, and then she said" I love you."

"I love you too," Draco said and kissed her full on the lips.

"Guys, I really don't want to see that," Harry said turning away from them.

Hermione felt anxious as they made their way towards the ship. The three of them, her, Harry and Ron were huddled under the invisibility cloak, while Kingsley had cast a disillusionment charm to block himself from view. Wand clutched tightly in her hand, Hermione reminded herself of what she'd told Draco; she had done this kind of thing without fail in the past and there was no reason to think they wouldn't succeed this time.

It was a balancing act crossing the footbridge to the ship while being underneath the cloak since Ron kept stepping on her toes and the cloak kept hiking up to reveal her ankles. When they'd finally managed to get aboard the ship, she spotted the bushy-browed man sleeping against a barrel and he wasn't alone, there were several more slumbering crew members scattered across the ship. "Expelliarmus," Harry muttered sending the bushy-browed man's wand flying from his grasp and soon they'd gathered the wands from all members of crew.

"Go, Hermione," Harry whispered once they'd finished. Hermione stuck the collection of wands she was holding into the pocket of her beige overalls and walked out from underneath the invisibility cloak. Reaching the Captain's chambers, she whispered "Alohomora" and hearing the door unlock itself, she pushed it open. As she continued into the dark room, she saw Camilla asleep, her head resting on the desk and she was holding something.

It couldn't be, Hermione thought walking closer to the sleeping woman. But there it was, wrapped in the woman's arms - a small chest carved in wood and she was about to reach for it when something else grabbed her attention. Next to the woman was a glowing glass orb and Hermione recognized it as once. It was just like the ones that had scattered at The Department of Mysteries on the night Sirius was killed. _A prophecy_. Then something compelled her to reach for it and she hurried to shove the small ball into her pocket before turning her attention back to the chest. She started coaxing it from the woman's clasp, when.

"You!" Camilla exclaimed standing up, her eyes wide in shock, and reaching for something in her robe. But Hermione was faster and pointing her wand at the woman she yelled:

"Petrificus Totalus!"

She watched the woman go rigid as a plank and fall backwards onto the chair she had been sitting which toppled over with a clatter and then there was a muffled thud as Camilla landed on the floor next to it.

"Yes, that's right. And now this mere muggleborn witch will go and commandeer your ship," Hermione said with a victorious grin, clutching the small wooden box to her chest.

"Blakely, come on! We have to get down to the bridge," Draco told the dark haired man who was still busy distributing wands to the prisoners. But then he heard them: hurried footsteps coming towards them from the other end of the barrack.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed. Get back all of you!" Someone shouted and then Draco heard a shriek and saw green sparks issue from someone's wand. _Fuck_ , he thought when he realized they'd been caught. Spinning around to find Blakely, his eyes caught sight of the girl, Sadie standing alone and looking scared in the passage in front of him and rushing towards the back exit he grabbed her.

"Blakely, I've got Sadie, get everyone out now!", he shouted over his shoulder as they made their way out the barrack.

It was pandemonium as the prisoners scrambled to get away from the Nightshade members, who seemed to be coming from all directions.

"Secumsempra!" Draco threw at a cloaked man in front of them watching him fall to the ground with a yell.

"You need to hide," he told Sadie once he'd put her down and he managed to turn just in time to shield them from a hex zooming through the air in their direction.

"Now!" He yelled at her and watched the girl crawl through the snow to the thick of the trees. He turned to the ship, there were still no sparks, and wondered what was taking them so long. He thought about Granger's weakened state and the fact she probably wouldn't last long in a fight.

"Malfoy! Look out," he heard Neville yell and jumping, he scarcely escaped getting blasted by a jinx cast by a man on his left. Draco quickly retaliated and shouted "Flipendo!" sending his opponent flying through the air.

"Thanks, Longbottom," he said and looking towards Neville he saw the green sparks in the sky behind him.

"Everyone to the ship!" Draco shouted at the top of his lungs and catching sight of Blakely he said:

"Blakely! Get Sadie and bring her to the ship!"

Hermione stood on deck, her eyes fixed on the scene of prisoners and members of Nightshade fighting on the island. _Please let them be okay_ , she thought chewing her lip frantically. Harry had made her promise to stay on the ship, but now she was on the verge of breaking her promise. She couldn't stand the thought of Sadie, Draco and Nate in the midst of all the fighting. But then as she was about to leave, she saw them. They were at the front of the crowd of prisoners ambling towards the ship.

"Harry, they're coming!" she shouted rushing towards the footbridge and together she, Harry, Ron and Kingsley helped the prisoners onto the deck.

"Hermione, you okay?" Draco asked hoarsely, holding her at arm's reach and scanning his eyes over her before pulling her into a hug.

"You're okay," he sighed resting his forehead on her shoulder. Then she felt the pull from the ship as it left the dock and almost couldn't believe it, they had all made it out. She broke apart from Draco and walked up to Harry.

"Are you sure we'll be safe, I mean with Camilla and her crew still on the ship?" she asked.

"I reckon so, we have them locked up below deck and Dawlish and Kingsley are keeping watch," Harry answered putting an arm around her.

"And you're sure Neville knows how to steer the ship?" Hermione wondered, glancing at Neville who stood at the railing speaking to the plant jutting out from the chest.

"Without doubt, he's brilliant with that thing," he said and Hermione felt reassured, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I hate to ruin your moment," Draco started when he walked up to them, but then "No actually I don't. Hermione you should get some sleep."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she yawned allowing Draco to pull her away from Harry. They walked to the Captain's chambers and once inside they laid down on the alcove bed in the corner of the room. Hermione closed her eyes savouring the feeling of Draco's warm body next to her before allowing the waves to rock her to sleep.


	22. The end

They had sailed for two days and most of the passengers had disapparated from the ship once it reached a point for it safe to do so. The remaining passengers, that is to say the rescue team and Granger, Sadie and Blakely took turns steering the ship towards the shore. Draco had woken up early that morning, still awed to have Granger in the bed next to him. Pulling her close, he inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. Then he resumed staring at her, drinking in every bit of her beautiful face.

"Why are you staring at me?" Hermione asked drowsily, looking at him through partly closed eyes.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked, but he didn't feel sorry at all. As much as he'd missed seeing her, he'd missed talking to her even more.

"That's okay," she said, stretching her body and Draco couldn't escape noticing how sexy she looked. Especially granted to the fact she wasn't wearing any clothes.

"You know you really shouldn't have done that," he said, rolling on top of her.

"Draco, I'm filthy," she complained.

"I don't care," he said and when she was about to argue he leaned in and kissed her passionately and soon he felt her yield to him. He'd almost forgot how amazing she felt and as he moved inside her he tugged on her lip, kissed her neck and ran his fingers through her hair. That is to say until they got stuck in the tangled mess of it. He laughed, pulling his fingers from it, but then the sight of her coming undone wiped the smile from his face.

 _She's fucking perfect_ , he thought and increasing his pace he felt a powerful sensation below his navel and collapsed on top of her with a satisfied groan.

"Mm, I missed that," she said, wrapping her arms around him.

"Me too," he said nuzzled in her hair.

Draco could have gladly spent the rest of the day tangled together in bed, but Hermione had other plans. She got up from the bed pulling on the dreadful beige overalls she'd been wearing the last few days.

"Where are you going?" he groaned recalling the repressed the memory of her dancing around like a stressed chicken in the mornings.

"I want to see how Sadie and Nate are doing," she explained and Draco sat up at her mentioning Nate.

"Hold on, I'm coming with you," he said, putting on his clothes before they left the Captain's chambers.

"You know I haven't forgotten about that conversation," he said.

"I can't believe you're jealous of Nate," Hermione said, laughing.

"I don't see what's so funny," he snapped "You and him together on that island. Who knows what could have happened"

"Oh, right because being kidnapped, humiliated and forced to work outside in zero degrees really sets the mood for romance," she said sarcastically.

"Whatever," he said, glaring at her, but then he watched her stop in her tracks to stare into space.

"I'd totally forgot," she said suddenly, pulling something from her pocket

"What's that?" Draco asked looking at the glass orb in Granger's hand.

"It's a prophecy," Hermione said flatly.

"What does it say?" Draco

He watched her turning over the small object in her hands.

"I don't know," she started but she was interrupted by the dark, deep voice emerging from it.

 _The heiress of the great king will bow to the will of her forefather and bring fear and destruction to the kingdom of the west. The heiress will know fame first when she crosses paths with the one of common decent, the girl who knows more than most._

"What the hell was that?" Draco asked bewildered, looking from the glass orb to Hermione.

"Of course, that's why she singled me out!" Hermione said, and then "Camilla thought whoever made the prophecy was talking about me". _They told me you were clever_.

"The prophecy is about Camilla and you," Draco asked incredulous.

"No. I think she made a mistake thinking it was me," Hermione said, and then "because I don't see how I could bring her fame."

"Are you certain about that, Hermione?" said Kingsley, making them both jump. They hadn't heard him walk up to them. However, that might be the mark of a good Auror, Hermione thought.

"What are your thoughts, Kingsley," she asked him.

"I think you're the reason her secret operation unravelled and the reason everyone will know her name, "Kingsley said smiling, and then "only I don't think that was the kind of fame she'd imagined."

"It seems the paradoxical nature of prophecies is that they wouldn't be fulfilled without people believing in them and altering their choices based on that belief," she said, putting the orb back into her pocket.

"Yes, but what concerns me is how she got hold of your information. It's 'eyes only' meaning she must have someone inside the Ministry," Kinsley said, and then "I bet it's the same person who kept badgering me about why I'd sent for Kristensen's file. Jenkins or whatever he was called."

"Jenkins," Blakely intervened, walking up to them, and then "that's my boss. He's the one who sent me to see Hermione."

Draco knew it wasn't fair to blame Blakely for what his boss had done, but in that moment he didn't care. He wanted to punch the tall, dark-haired man for jeopardizing Granger's life. It seemed that Blakely felt the same way because he turned to Hermione.

"This is all my fault. I should have realized," he started with a remorseful expression, but Hermione cut him off.

"Realized what exactly? That your boss was an infiltrator working for a sociopathic maniac scheming to kidnap muggleborns onto a magical ship?" Hermione started with a laugh and then "Really, I don't understand how you didn't see that coming." Draco felt himself relax and soon they were all laughing.

 _The days after their return to Hogwarts the news of the rescue was all people could talk about and everyone wanted details of what had happened on the island. Hermione had become something of a celebrity and there'd been several articles in the Prophet of the vicious plans of Camilla Kristensen, the rescue mission and interviews with some of the returned muggleborn witches and wizards. But soon enough things got back to normal. Well, almost normal, several things had changed for the better. Ron, Harry and Draco had managed to settle their differences and now got along quite well and Ron had decided to go into Auror training in the summer. McGonagall had agreed to let Sadie catch up on her schoolwork in order for her to finish her first schoolyear and Hermione was working hard helping her cope with the workload. As for her and Draco? They'd decided to get their own place once they'd finished with school, knowing that until then they'd always have the Room of Requirement._


End file.
